My Angel Gabriel
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Sam has some suspicions about Cole Trenton. But how will Cole, the Winchesters and Castiel react when they discover he's carrying a fragment of Gabriel's Grace? When the Darkness rises, and Cas decides to restore the fallen archangel with the soldier as his vessel...well, it's a whole new form of chaos. Season 11 AU.
1. Chapter 1: Suspicions

**My Angel Gabriel**

 **Chapter** **One:** **Suspicions**

After the expulsion of the Kahn worm, they all needed a bit of a breather.

Cole was exhausted. Electrocution, followed by massive dehydration and close quarters combat, made for a hard day for any man, even a soldier like him. After the worm was ejected and dead, Dean made him drink a gallon of water, opened all the windows to cool the cabin, and dropped the soldier into a bed with an admonishment to stay there or get his ass whooped again.

Dean was faring better. Three bottles of water made him feel in tip-top shape again, and Cole hadn't been strong enough to do that much damage to him during their scuffle. The Mark of Cain was a hell-on-earth burden to carry, but it did at least make it easier to bounce back from a brawl.

Sam was in the best shape physically. No dehydration, and only minor injuries fighting with Kitt. He was feeling guilty about the soldier's death, but even Cole and Kitt's widow admitted that he'd been too far gone to save. And at least they'd tried.

Dean woke out of a cat-nap to find his brother sitting at the table and studying Cole with that intent stare he usually used on possession victims. He stretched, then got up and slapped his brother on the shoulder. "Worm's out Sammy. He's not gonna jump up and slit your throat all of a sudden. Trust me."

Sam smiled, a faint creasing of one corner of his mouth. "I do. I was actually thinking about something else. Well, about Cole, but not the worm."

"Yeah?" Dean popped the tab on a beer Sam had brought in, then dragged out a chair to sit with his brother. "Lay it on me. What's eating you?"

"It's just...have you ever thought there might be something strange about him?" He tilted his head at the sleeping man. "I mean...first of all, he tracks you for 12 years. Actively hunts you. But we've been declared dead by multiple government agencies. More than once. Why was he still looking? FBI records have you dead six or seven years ago, National Security at least four. Why was he still looking for you?"

"Maybe he's just paranoid. Which is legit, considering we aren't in fact dead."

"Yeah, but we've been really low profile since the Leviathan thing. And it's not like we have a credit card trail to follow. All our cards are fake. We don't have a home address, not even a valid driver's license. How did he or anyone else manage to catch our trail? And how the hell did he stay on it once he caught up to us at that bar? Both of us are too careful for it to be that easy. Even Henricksen never got to us unless we were in the middle of a job gone south, or he got a tip off."

Dean frowned. Then he shrugged. "Dude's like, special ops. He probably has all kinds of mad skills in the stalking department. And he's figured out our pattern, judging by how he showed up here."

"Which is weird, because we're not the only hunters in business, and we're pretty erratic in our movements." Sam shrugged. "And he actually managed to sabotage my car and follow me without me noticing. That's some serious skills."

"Again. Special ops. They know these things, Sammy." Dean knocked back a third of his beer.

"Fine. Why was he so easy to convince to back down? You had no proof you were telling the truth. His only experience with the supernatural was the fact that you were a demon. He hunts you for 12 years, his job is to be a paranoid, dedicated soldier, then you feed him a half-assed story about how is dad suddenly turned into this unidentifiable liver-eating monster and he just goes 'okay' and drops his weapon. How is that not suspicious?"

Dean's brow furrowed. "It was pretty easy. But maybe he's one of those guys who can read people, tell instinctively when they're being honest."

"Maybe. Still seems odd. And the Kahn worm. It drives people mad. He held out pretty good, for someone who's not a hunter." Sam glanced at Cole. "And you said you electrocuted him well past the safe time, sent him into arrhythmia, and now he's basically okay?"

"Tough man."

"Dean, you got half the shock you say you gave him, and you pretty much died. That's more than tough."

Dean shrugged again. "Maybe it's a training thing." He finished the beer, got up and grabbed two more, popped the tops, then sat back down. "Look, Sam, make your point."

"It's just...there's all these little coincidences. And...it's the name thing. Besides you, only one person in the world has ever called me Sammy." Sam met his brother's eyes over the top of his beer. "And since when have you ever let anyone call you Deano? Especially after they've tried to kill you?"

"Sonny at the home did. Granted, minus the killing part." Dean swallowed. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking...well, he reminds me of something. I don't want to say just yet. I might just be barking up the wrong tree, but I want Cas to check him out."

Dean blinked. "You want to call Cas in on this?"

"Yeah. I really do. He can tell me if I'm blowing smoke or not."

"Blowing smoke about what?" A gravelly voice issued from the bed, and both brothers turned to see Cole sitting up, grimacing and wincing. "Son of a bitch. I feel like I went 20 rounds with a tank." The soldier shook his head, rolled his shoulders, then stood and staggered over to the table. "Wouldn't say no to one of those beers, if you got any more, Deano."

"Sure. You can have a beer..." Dean strolled over to the cooler on the table and pulled out two bottles. He plunked the first one down in front of Cole. "As soon as you drink a little more water."

Cole gave him a weak, lopsided grin, then popped the top and drank deeply. Within a minute, all the water was gone. He set the bottle down and swiped his mouth. "I'd like the beer now."

Dean grinned and passed him the bottle. Cole popped the cap, took a deep swig and exhaled in relief. "Ah man, now that is a little slice of heaven." He sipped again. "So...what were you talking about, and don't say it had nothing to do with me."

"I wouldn't. Actually, we were primarily talking about you." Sam sipped his beer, meeting Dean's eyes across the table. Then he sighed. "I think you should come with us to meet a friend of ours. He's an expert on...a lot of things, really, but he'll be able to tell if you're clean of supernatural influences."

Cole's eyebrow rose. "You mean there might be somethin' more in me?"

"It's not a high possibility, but...it is possible. That worm wasn't like the one we dealt with before. It may have done something we don't know about. Also, it's a general precaution. There's been a lot of weird stuff happening the past few years, and since you're new to the supernatural it could be that you've encountered something you just don't know enough about to identify." Sam kept his tone light.

"Great. Just great." Cole knocked back the rest of his beer with a sigh and rolled his shoulders. "Look, I'd be just as happy to be quit of you boys and never talk again, but I got a wife and kid at home. And no way in hell do I wanna put them in any danger. So if you think I need to see this supernatural specialist of yours, bring it on. Or just tell me where to find the guy."

Sam nodded and pulled out his phone. He tapped a number. "Cas? Hey Cas, how are you?" He rose from the table. "Yeah, that's good. That's good to hear...yeah, Dean's doing fine, everything's good on our end. It's just, we were working this case, a Kahn worm thing, but the worm was really weird. It didn't respond to electricity like the last one...no, we got it. It's all handled. It's just...one of the victims, his name's Cole Trenton, we've crossed paths with him before. He's not a hunter..." A low huff of completely unamused laughter, "well, unless you count hunting Dean...no, no it's good. They've ironed things out, you don't need to...trust me Cas, I'd have shot him myself it was a problem..."

Cole snorted. "Nice to know where I stand."

Dean shrugged. "Fair's fair."

Sam was still speaking. "Look, Cas, it's just...there's something about Cole that's making us a little wary. We've checked him for normal stuff, but every now and again, we get something new from Eve and...yeah, yeah, I know, just...call it hunter's instincts, okay? There's nothing that seems...wrong with him, just something off. And we didn't want to send him home without clearing him. He's got family. So, if you could just meet us somewhere and give him a once-over, make sure he's clean and normal, we'll all feel better." Sam paused. "Yeah, okay. We can go there. Sure. Meet you there." He snapped the phone shut.

"And? What'd Cas say?"

"He's headed for the bunker, said he'd meet us there. Something about discovering more information on something or other. And he's agreed to give Cole a looking over."

"Great." Cole sighed. "Just for the record, do I wanna know what you were referring to with that whole 'Eve' spiel?" He glanced back and forth between them.

"Probably not, beyond the fact that Eve is no longer a problem. We killed her about 5 years ago." Dean and Sam finished their drinks. Dean threw the bottles into the garbage. "Let's get this show on the road. Sooner we get you scoped out, sooner me and Sammy can get back to business, and you can get back to your family and that upside-down mortgage you were worrying about."

"Awesome." Cole threw his bottle after Dean's and got to his feet. "Lead the way boys."

Dean turned, then turned back around. "Uh...one more thing..." He clicked his fingers. "Sammy'll drive you."

Cole frowned. "What the hell..."

"You just got electrocuted nearly to death and dehydrated. You aren't in top form, and I don't want you crashing your ass. Besides, Sam and I know where we're going, and we're used to each others patterns. You don't, and you aren't. So...while you sleep it off and recover, Sammy'll drive you."

Cole scowled, then pulled a key-ring out of his jacket. "Fine. I guess I can live with that. But you better be careful with my Jeep."

Sam laughed. "Trust me. I'm used to paranoid drivers."

"Fine. Let's go." Cole passed the keys over and ducked out the door, the Winchesters right behind him.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Questions...comments...?_


	2. Chapter 2: Unexpected

**Chapter** **Two:** **Unexpected**

The drive was several hours. Cole was stiff and tense in the passenger seat for the first two. Then he relaxed enough to open the bottle of water Dean had given him. "So...since we're stuck riding together, mind if I ask you some questions, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Not a problem. But there are some I can't really answer. And some I won't for personal reasons."

Cole nodded. "I'm guessing that what's really going on with Deano falls into the second category."

Sam grimaced. "Yeah. It really does."

"Fair enough." Cole mirrored Sam's shrug, winced as it pulled aching muscles. "So tell me more about this Cas guy we're going to see."

"Cas is...well, he's Cas." Sam frowned, trying to find words that would describe the angel, without calling him an angel. "He's been friends with Dean and I for a long time. More with Dean, really. He pulled Dean out of a really bad situation, one I couldn't save him from, and they've sort of been friends ever since. He knows a lot about the supernatural. He's...he's a good guy. A little eccentric sometimes, well a lot of the time, actually. But he's good to have at your back. Honestly, I think Dean and I'd be way more screwed if Cas wasn't around and willing to help out."

"Yeah? You sound like you're not sure."

Sam's hand clenched around the steering wheel. "Cas has made some mistakes. And they've had some pretty serious consequences for all of us. But still, he's...he's good. He didn't mean for things to go south like they did. And honestly, the situation he was in? I'm pretty sure a lot of other people would have made the same mistake. He's been in some pretty bad spots. But Cas has...well, he's done a lot of good, and he's gotten himself seriously messed up doing it. But he keeps going, no matter how bad it gets."

"Sounds like he'd be a good soldier."

Sam smiled. "He is. Was, I guess. He's sort of retired. But he can still fight pretty well."

"Well, I'm sure I'll like him then." Cole settled back.

Sam frowned. "One thing...Cas has some...well, he's got some weird talents. Psychic style talents. That's why I wanted him to check you out. He's got a way of sensing things that normal people can't. So...he'll probably act a little odd, but don't freak out."

"Sure. Sure. Now that I've got a fair warning." Cole leaned back in the seat. "So...how much further we have?"

Sam glanced at the clock. "About five or so hours. Longer if we pull off for dinner."

"I hope not." Cole took another drink of his water. "Tell me more about your hunting life."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. I don't wanna get mixed up with you boys any more than I have to, but it seems to me there's a lot of stuff out there that the military didn't train us for. So give me the lowdown."

The rest of the drive was fairly amiable, following the Impala and swapping stories. Sam told Cole about hunting, Cole asked questions and shared a few war stories of his own. By the time they pulled up the long drive to the bunker, they were both tired, but comfortable with each other.

Cas's gold car was sitting out front of the bunker, Cas himself sitting on the front bumper as they pulled up. He got to his feet as soon as they pulled to a stop. "Sam. Dean." He greeted both Winchesters with a hug. "How are you both?"

"We're good." Sam grinned. "Just finished a bit of a rough hunt."

"So you mentioned." Cas's brow furrowed. "And you must be Cole."

"Yeah. That's me. Cole Trenton." The soldier extended a hand to grasp, and Cas shook it firmly, peering intently at him as he did so. Cole frowned at the concentration in the blue eyes. "Something on my face?"

The expression switched to confusion. "No. Should there be?"

Sam chuckled. "You were giving him that stare. The hard one."

"Oh. I was just..." His gaze flickered back to Cole. "You have a very good soul. Very warm."

"Oh. Well, thanks." Cole shifted uncomfortably. "Appreciated. Sorry, but I'm gonna have to reserve judgment till I know you better."

"Oh, I don't..." Sam's hand clapped on Cas's shoulder, startling him.

Sam shook his head. "Now is not the time, Cas." He glanced around. "So, how about we get inside the bunker, and you can check him over for supernatural influences?"

"Oh. Of course." Cas released Cole's hands. "Lead the way."

Cole followed them to the old door. "Looks like an old Cold War Bunker."

"Actually, more like World War II." Sam unlocked the door. "Watch the steps just inside...I'll go down and turn on the lights." He vanished inside. Cas followed, then Cole, then Dean.

Cole whistled as he came down the stairs. "Now this is one sweet set-up you got here." He looked around, ran his hand admiringly over the map. "Old style strategic map. That is a thing of art."

"Yeah. Everything down here's from the forties and fifties, except for some stuff Sammy and I brought in." Dean shrugged. "It's a little dated, but it's comfortable and it's livable, and we don't have to pay for it, except for groceries and occasional repairs."

"Nice. How'd you score a deal like that?" Cole ran a hand across one of the chair backs.

"Grandfather left it to us. Kind of an unexpected inheritance, but we aren't complaining." Sam disappeared and came back with four drinks.

"I'll bet." Cole looked around, then pulled out a chair and dropped into it, hands resting across the tops of his thighs as he turned to look at Cas. "So, what do I gotta do so you can do your little check-up or whatever on me? And how long's it gonna take?"

"It should be no more than a minute or so. But I'll need you to remain still." Cas's expression was still, solemn, concentration tightening lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"Sure." Cole settled a little more comfortably and closed his eyes. "Check away."

He tensed, but remained still when two cool fingers pressed gently against his forehead.

Then, without warning, every ache he'd accumulated during the worm incident vanished. Hell, even that deep, slightly arthritic pain in his shoulder, courtesy of a joint that had been dislocated one too many times, disappeared. His eyes shot open and he jerked back on instinct. "What the hell?"

"Cas? What'd you do?" Sam straightened from where he'd been leaning against the table.

Cas frowned, then looked away. "My apologies. I sensed you were in pain. It's...something of an instinct for me to try and heal injuries when I can. Especially for people that Sam and Dean are comfortable enough with to bring here."

Cole took a deep breath. "You...healed..."

"There was a great deal of recent muscle damage, including to your heart. I've healed it, and eased the ache from some of your older wounds." Cas shrugged, looking slightly abashed. "I'm sorry I can't do more but...well, my powers are limited at the moment."

"Limited...holy hell..." Cole sat up and rotated his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like not to ache in that joint.

Cas frowned. "That statement is an oxymoron..."

Cole sighed. "Spare me the language lesson. You figure out if anything's wrong with me or not?"

"There is nothing wrong with you. However..." Cas's brow furrowed. "There is...something...but it shouldn't be possible." The frown deepened, and then he reached for Cole's forehead again. "Excuse me. I need to verify something." He touched Cole lightly with two fingers. This time Cole saw the faint glow emanating from his hand. He clenched his hands on the chair arms to avoid backing away.

After a moment, Cas dropped his hand, still looking puzzled.

"Well?" Sam moved a step forward. "What is it?"

"It's...difficult to describe." Cas's jaw tensed. "He feels like you did, when I was healing you from the trials."

Sam blinked. "You mean, he has Grace? Someone used him as a vessel?"

"Say what?" Cole sat up straight.

Dean frowned. "You ever give anything permission to borrow you, go for a little walk?"

"No. Hell no." Cole sat back. "Anything like what?" His eyes darted to Cas, then to Sam. "What the hell are you on about, Sammy? What's Grace?"

"Angel essence, basically. Angels possess heavenly power, called Grace. When they take a human as a vessel, they can leave behind a little bit of Grace if they leave. I found out about it months ago." Sam shrugged. "Angel possessed me. It's a long story."

"You mean I've been hijacked by some angel?"

"That isn't possible. Angel's have to have permission to take a host. In any case, this doesn't feel like that. And it wouldn't be possible for that angel to be possessing you. At least, it shouldn't be." Cas shook his head.

Dean sighed. "Start with which angel, and what you mean by 'feels different'." He settled on the corner of a table. "Feels different how?"

"It's not an active presence. More like..." Cas considered. "It's more like the traces left in the tree that Anna's grace touched. Passive. But that angel..." He shook his head again.

"Cas, which angel was it?" Sam's voice was soft.

"My brother. Gabriel."

"Say what?" Dean went stiff. "Gabriel...like Trickster, duked it out with Lucifer and got his ass kicked Gabriel?"

"Yes. Him. But..."

"Whoa, whoa...back up a minute." Cole threw his hands up. Both men stopped and looked at him. He took a moments to get his racing heart back under control. "I think I need some more background info fellas." He took a deep breath. "All right. Let's start simple. You said Gabriel. Who the heck is Gabriel?"

"He's an archangel. Was an archangel. We're pretty sure he died about six years ago." Sam settled into a chair.

"How the hell does an archangel die?" Cole shook his head. "I'm no religious expert, but aren't archangels, I don't know, invincible or some shit?"

"Not when confronting the Devil, they aren't." Dean slouched from the table into a chair.

"The devil? Like, the honest-to-God, ruler of Hell kinda devil?"

"Yeah. See...you might have noticed a bunch of weird shit happened in 2008-2010." Sam sat forward, hands clasped on his knees.

"A little, yeah. What about it?"

"That was actually the Apocalypse. The honest-to-god freakin' end of the world. Angels, archangels, the devil...every hard hitter you've ever heard of in Sunday school was there. Well, except God. He chose to sit it out." Dean tossed back his hands.

"He chose to sit it out..." Cole shook his head. "I'll get the full story later, maybe. Stick with the important crap. This archangel Gabriel...what'd he do?"

Dean grinned, but there was no humor in his eyes. "Gabe wanted me and Sammy to play a role in the final firefight. We weren't agreeing. But, anyway, there was this big old ancient gods party going on, and they decided that eliminating us would solve the whole Apocalypse problem. Gabe decided to interfere. Sadly enough, so did Lucifer."

"Why the hell'd the Devil interfere?"

Sam sighed. "He wanted me to be his vessel. One of his demons did something to me when I was a baby, made me an ideal vessel for him." Sam shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want the details, and I don't want to go into them. Needless to say, I wasn't quite up for being the Devil's vessel. But he figured I'd say yes, and he didn't want anyone killing me before then. So, he crashed the god-party. Gabriel tried to stop him from taking us, and Lucifer killed him." Sam shifted. "Or, we assumed he did. We went back later, found the body and the wing marks."

"Right. Wing marks." Cole shook his head again. His mind was going over all the information, he'd heard. Then his gaze flicked to Cas. "You said Gabriel was your brother. You an angel too?"

"I am." Cas nodded.

Cole looked him over. "You don't look at all like what I expected. Shouldn't you have...wings and shit?" He gestured. "And what kind of angel name is Cas anyway?"

"My name is Castiel." Cas shifted his shoulders. "Angels do not typically possess halos, not of the type you humans picture, anyway. As for wings...this Grace isn't mine, so I don't...I can't properly manifest wings that aren't mine. And in any case, all angels still suffer damaged wings from the Fall."

"The Fall?"

"The meteor shower about a year and a half ago. It wasn't a meteor shower. It was a pissed off angel. He cast some freaky spell to cast all the angels to Earth." Dean's face was impassive, but his eyes were angry.

"Hot damn." Cole sat forward, head nearly touching his knees. "I knew you boys were involved in some crazy ass shit, but this is way above my pay grade."

Something entered his line of sight, and he looked up enough to see Sam holding out a beer. He sat up and seized it, grateful for cooling condensation and the bitter wash of alcohol, weak as it was, to ground himself. He drank two large swallows, nearly a third of the bottle, then slumped in his chair. "Okay."

Cole ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply. "Okay. So...angels. Fine. What's one more weird ass not-human running around?" He knocked back another gulp of beer. "How'd this...angel essence get inside me? And what can we do about it?"

"As to how..." Sam frowned, then shook his head. "Okay, I have no idea. Cas?"

"I'm not certain." The angel frowned. "I have one theory, but no way to verify it."

"Shoot. I'll take a theory. As long as you aren't about to tell me that some angel possessed me in my sleep." Cole grimaced.

"That wouldn't be possible, unless he first entered your dreams and you gave him permission. I was thinking of something else."

"Well, share with the class." Dean made a short impatient gesture.

"No one knows what happens to angels when they die. There's no reference. Many believe we simply return to the Father. However, there may be another explanation. Angel deaths are fairly explosive in nature. It's possible that when we die, our grace combusts, burns out in some form and is scattered across the Earth."

Sam blinked. "That might explain the burned out wings."

"Exactly."

Dean scowled. "Wouldn't you know if that's what happened? I mean..."

Cas's expression went blank, shadowed in a way that reminded Cole of veterans who'd been asked about a particularly bad moment on the battlefield. "I don't remember that."

"Dean." Sam's voice was low, warning, and the elder Winchester shut his mouth.

After a moment, he shook his head. "Sorry Cas."

"No. It's fine. I just...I don't remember anything from my own deaths. Only the moment of destruction and then...being back." His lips pursed. "If my theory is correct, the Grace would be absorbed by anything living it touched. I don't know if it would affect another angel, but...it might conceivably bond with a human soul, if that human was compatible. Otherwise, it would most likely be reabsorbed into the Earth and the heavenly planes."

"But why me? I never met no archangel Gabriel, and I sure as hell wasn't near any angel death site." Cole tossed back his beer and smacked the bottle onto the table.

"Gabriel was an archangel. His death explosion, if that's truly what happened, would have cast fragments of grace across the globe. And it would explain the impression I received from the Grace inside you. Inert, not truly active, but carrying Gabriel's essence."

"Great. Hit by angel shrapnel." Cole drank the rest of his beer. Sam's brow furrowed, then the younger Winchester handed him his own beer, still mostly full. Cole took another swallow. "Well, at least it didn't hurt, I guess." he wiped his mouth, then handed the beer back to Sam. "So...how's this stuff work? How's it going to affect me? And is there any way to remove it?"

Castiel frowned. "There is a way to remove it, but I would not recommend it. It would be highly detrimental to your health, as Sam knows. Especially since it would most likely cause you to experience episodes from the time that has passed since the Grace merged with you."

Cole tilted his head. "Sammy?"

"Yeah. Cas is right. We tried that with the Grace inside me. It was pretty bad. And it really hurts. Much worse than being electrocuted." Sam grimaced and rubbed the side of his neck, under the ear. "And the flash-backs were hell."

"Okay. Noted. Is this Grace thing...does it make me dangerous? To my family or my friends?"

"No." Castiel shook his head. "This fragment...it's only a very small fraction of my brother's grace. A hundredth, perhaps a thousandth, of Gabriel's essence. And as inert as it is, the only thing it would do is slightly increase your natural resistance to illness and injury, and to supernatural beings. Perhaps leave you with a few residual memories or feelings. But those would be very slight, almost slight enough to seem like dreams, or subconscious instincts."

"That doesn't sound too bad. I guess. What kind of memories?"

A small smile curved Sam's mouth. "Gabriel always called my brother and I Sammy and Deano. Only one before you, actually."

Dean snorted. "He also had a habit of fighting us and trying to kill us to prove a point."

"More like threatening." Sam winced. "Except for the Tuesday thing. But that turned out all right eventually."

"Right. Okay. I don't want to know." Cole shook his head. "So that's all this Grace is gonna do to me?"

"If it has done nothing else in the six and a half years since Gabriel's death, then you do not need to be concerned about it affecting you any further." Cas seemed fairly assured. "However, if you begin to have difficulties, you can call Sam or Dean, and they will be able to reach me."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be easier to just pray?"

Castiel's brow furrowed. "It would, I suppose. But I also use a cell phone while I am on Earth. It's fairly efficient."

"Sure. Okay. Whatever works." Cole sighed, leaning his head back across the back of the chair.

He wanted to sleep for a week and forget the past hour of conversation. In his unit he'd been considered one of the lucky men, known for getting in and out with the least amount of difficulty and damage. He'd thought it was just a gift of genetics. Not...angel essence.

He wondered why he wasn't more of a church-going man. Shouldn't angel essence mean he'd want to go to church every Sunday, confession, Sunday schools, Bible study and all? Volunteering for youth trips and bible camps?

Maybe the angel essence inside him was too small to have that kind of effect. Hadn't...Cas, he liked the shortened name better...said it was only like a hundredth of the archangel's essence? Or a thousandth? No matter how you cut it, that wasn't all that much to work with.

He was too tired to think about it anymore. Bottom line, he had angel essence in him, and aside from giving him a slight battlefield advantage and a frenemy relationship with two monster hunters, it wasn't doing anything. And he'd already been promised it wasn't going to make him go off and endanger his wife and kid, or his buddies. So fine. Not important, unless something massive, supernatural and potentially angel related came up. Which he hoped to hell it never would.

He sighed again and forced his eyes open. "You boys got a place where I can crash for a while?"

"Sure." Sam nodded. "We've got spare rooms down in the dorm section of this place."

"Great." He dragged himself back into upright position. "Here's what I'm planning to do. I'm gonna follow Sammy down to the dorms, and I'm gonna sleep, cause I still feel like I've been hit by a truck. And then I'm gonna go home to my wife and kid, and unless the next Apocalypse starts, I ain't gonna think about this again. And if I ever run into you boys again and it isn't the end of the world, we aren't gonna talk about it."

"That sounds like the most advantageous strategy at present." Cole almost smiled, a little heartened by the angel's support. He'd been expecting Cas to be the one to object if anyone did. It was his brother whose essence fragments he was running around with.

Sam cracked a smile at Cas's statement, then pulled himself upright. "Come on. I'll show you to a room you can use."

"Thanks, Sammy." He shoved himself to his feet, then glanced at Dean and Cas. "Thanks to you boys too. I may not be sure if I believe what I'm hearing, but I do appreciate you taking the time to check it out and give me a heads up."

"Sure. Anytime." Dean gave him a half-hearted salute with the beer bottle.

"Of course. It was no trouble." Cas nodded to him, expression solemn but not unfriendly.

Cole sighed, followed Sam downstairs to the room Sam opened for him, then crashed on the bed and fell into dreamless slumber.

***MAG***

The next morning, Cole woke early. Sam was already up. The Winchester showed him a place to get a shower, then fixed him an easy breakfast of coffee and toast. Fifteen minutes after that, he was on the road, the Bunker disappearing in his rear-view mirror, and a lot on his mind.

Angel essence. The essence of the archangel Gabriel. Maybe he'd get a pendant or a wristband from a religious store for luck. It seemed only fair, if it was angel essence that had been helping him out all these years.

He set the thought aside for later. His wife was already going to be worried about him, he'd been gone so long. And she'd probably heard of Kitt's death on the grapevine by now.

Well, he'd go home, assure her he was all right, just a little busy with some stuff that had come up on a different mission, hug her and the kiddo.

And hopefully, he wouldn't have to worry about this angel or monster business again.

 _ **Author's Note:** Of course it's not going to be that easy for any of them...this story's just getting started._

 _Thoughts? Comments? Questions?_


	3. Chapter 3: Darkened Days

**Chapter Three: Darkened Days**

The next few months were normal. Cole did his job, obeyed his supervisors, spent time with his family. He paid his bills and set some money aside for special treats for his son and his wife. Occasionally he'd remember the conversation at the Bunker, but most of the time he simply forgot that he had angel essence in him. And if he was a little suspicious of how smoothly his next mission went, well, they got out with no team casualties and succeeded in their mission objective, and that was all he cared about.

And then one afternoon everything went sideways.

He was at home filing taxes and looking over some paperwork when some sixth sense combat instinct reared up inside him. All at once adrenaline was zinging through his veins like diluted lightning, keying him up in a way he normally only experienced on a dangerous mission in a hot zone. He wasn't even conscious of un-clipping the safety on his pistol or rising from his desk until he was halfway up.

"Cole?" His wife looked up from where she was cleaning.

He shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right. I'm gonna go outside real quick. You keep the kiddo safe."

His wife nodded. She'd learned to trust his soldier's instincts, or at least not to fight with him about them. She put down the dust rag and went to the living room where their son was watching a movie while Cole went out the back door.

Clouds were boiling over the horizon, moving with the speed of a tornado and just about as ugly. Within minutes they were overhead, dense and black and heavy, churning in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It was like having the worst thunderstorm in the planet dropped on his head. Cole half expected to be struck by lightning where he stood.

Within five minutes, the light had gone from bright mid-afternoon to dark and sullen, the air heavy and charged.

The weather report had predicted fair weather and a chance of light clouds in a few days. Nothing like this had been on the radar. He stood staring at it for a few minutes, dread clenching in his gut, then turned and ducked back into the house and into the living room.

"Cole?" He shook his head and settled beside them on the couch, then looped one arm around his son.

"Hey buddy, can you do Daddy a favor?" His son nodded. "I need to pause the movie and check the news and weather real quick."

"Okay." His son handed him the remote.

He paused, then flipped over to the 24-hour weather channel. There was no prediction of storms on the forecast, and the radar showed no sign of the weather fronts that should have been piling up to produce a storm this massive. He flipped over to a news channel.

A news headline was just breaking. Massive cloud cover over the entire US, and satellites reported it spreading planet wide. Whatever it was, it was dense and didn't appear to be weather related. As a matter of fact, no one was sure what the hell it was. Extreme caution was advised. News casters were already warning of potential temperature drops and communications interference. Speculation was rampant, from some sort of chemical warfare to an unidentified comet strike.

Cole refrained from cursing only because his son was in the room. He watched the feed for a few minutes, then clicked back to the movie. "I gotta go out for a while. You sit tight and stay inside, okay? I'll call you later."

His son nodded again, already looking back at the movie. He could see the worry in his wife's eyes, but she nodded as well. He gave both of them a quick hug and a kiss. "I'll try to be back soon."

Five minutes later he was in his Jeep and headed for the base he worked on. Ten minutes after that, he knocked on his General's door. He could have gone to his Mission Commander, but this felt bigger than that. "Sir? Commander Cole Trenton. I need to speak with you."

"Enter." At the permission, he stepped inside, saluted, and settled into 'attention' stance. "My apologies for being out of uniform sir. I wasn't expecting to come in today, but I think it's urgent."

"At ease." Cole relaxed, coming to stand before the general's desk. "What brings you in, Commander?"

"Did you see the clouds outside, sir?"

"I had noticed the rather abrupt weather change, yes. Why?"

"I checked the weather reports, the radar and the news. This is worldwide, and it isn't normal cloud cover." Cole swallowed. "Sir, I was outside, and it feels like an F-3 tornado wrapped in a thunderstorm out there. Whatever it is, it's bad." He paused, then plunged ahead. "Sir, as a member of the Special Operations, I need to know...is this something related to operations in the field? For any division?"

"If it is Commander, it's above my pay grade, and therefore certainly above yours." The general paused. "However, I can tell you that I've heard no warnings issued. And for something like this, there should have been. The Air Force at least should have been preparing for alterations in flight plans and visibility. There have been no communiques."

"Thank you sir."

The general nodded. "You did well coming in, Commander. I'll be sure to keep you informed." The general waved him away in clear dismissal. Cole rose from his seat, saluted, and left.

He made it to his Jeep, then pulled out his missions cell phone and dialed a number. It rang twice, then clicked. "Jackson here."

"Hey, it's Cole. You seen the weather outside?" He looked up at the heavy, rolling black clouds. Purplish light flickered through them, and he shuddered involuntarily.

"Yeah. I've seen it. Hell, I just got a call in, all hands on deck to figure out what this is."

Something cold tightened in Cole's gut. "You don't know what this is? You're MI."

"Yeah. Doesn't mean I know everything. And purely off the records, if the way my higher-up sounded when he called me in is any indication, the top brass is as much in the dark as we are." There was a sigh. "Whatever triggered this...it was done totally radio silent. At least as far as I know."

"Got it. Keep me updated, yeah?"

"If I can, I will. If they put us in a lock-down, nothing I can do, but if I can get it out, you'll know as soon as I do."

"Thanks. I owe you one." He hung up.

Military was in the dark. That wasn't good. He flicked a finger down his contact list, stopping it near the bottom. His jaw clenched. He didn't want to make this call. He just hoped he was wrong about what the result was gonna be. He hit the call button.

One ring. Two. Three. Then a click and a brusque voice on the other end of the line. "Hello."

"Hey, Deano. Cole Trenton here."

"Cole. I would say nice to hear from you, but..."

"Yeah yeah. Feelings mutual. Just tell me you know why the global weather just went to hell. Or better yet, please tell me you have no idea, cause I'll probably sleep better if it's not in your ballpark."

Silence for a moment, then a heavy sigh that made his muscles tense involuntarily. "Wish I could set your mind at ease. But this thing...I gotta say, it's definitely in Sam and I's wheelhouse." Another sigh. "Hell, you might say it's right at our doorstep."

He bit back a curse. "How bad?"

"Scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a minor league ghost and 10 being all Hell breaks loose...probably 20. It's end of the world type crap."

"Son of a bitch. Got anything else you can tell me?"

"Not yet. Sam and I are headed to pick up Cas. We're hoping he knows something. Otherwise, we're all in the dark and probably screwed." Dean's voice was heavy with irony.

Cole grimaced. "How likely is this to screw with us ordinary non-monster-hunting folk?"

"Given the weather and what little we do know..." There was a pause. "It's a guarantee. The only question is how bad it's gonna get." Another pause, then Dean's voice came over the line again, this time intense and focused. "I'm going to send you a picture of something on text. Make sure you get something with that image for you and anyone you care about. Necklace, bracelet, tattoo, anything. And don't take it off. Ever. It might be the only thing that protects your ass."

"Well, I'm all for protecting my ass, so send it on down, Deano." He swallowed. "And I hate to ask, but keep me informed? If this is as bad as it sounds...shit man, I don't need any more incidents like with Kitt."

"We'll keep you posted." There was a click, and the line went dead. Cole pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft ding of an incoming text. He clicked it open to find a weird pentagram symbol, clearly a tattoo of some kind. It was accompanied by the short text 'anti-possession symbol'.

He'd seen symbols like that in some of the places he'd ventured while out hunting Dean, after he'd found out Dean was a demon. He took a moment to think, then started his Jeep and headed down the road.

An hour later, he pulled into his driveway, a small bag in one pocket of his jacket. He sat for a moment, then made his way inside.

His wife met him in the front hall. "Cole?"

"Hey sweetheart." He kissed her, ruffled his son's hair as the kid came up and hugged him. "Sorry I took so long. Everything okay?"

"Yes. We're fine. You?" Her eyes raked over him, concerned as she always was. "Did you find out anything?"

"Not much." He opened the bag and pulled out two necklaces, both with the strange symbol Dean had sent him. "I need the two of you to wear these, okay? I can't say why right now, but it's important." He handed one to his wife, then bent to slip the other one around his son's neck. "Hey buddy, don't take this off, okay?" His son nodded.

His wife put the necklace on, but her eyes were pensive. "Cole?"

"It's a precaution. A buddy of mine suggested it as a safety measure. Said some major stuff might be blowing in, and this might help. I can't say anything more than that." He never had told his wife about his encounter with Demon Dean, or the monster worm. He didn't plan on telling her if he didn't have to. He was just lucky she was used to that response, that she'd learned to accept that his position in Black Ops meant that he couldn't and shouldn't tell her everything he did.

She nodded. "Are we in danger?"

He swallowed hard, then pulled her to him in a hug, his other arm looping down to wrap around his son. "I don't know. But I will do everything in my power to make sure this does not come home to you, okay sweetheart?"

She nodded in his arms. "Okay. Just be careful."

"I always am." He held them both close for a moment longer, then bent to look at his son. "Hey buddy, how about we go watch another movie and order in pizza for dinner?" His son grinned brightly and his wife relaxed. He followed his son to the living room to pick a movie, Finding Nemo, helped him put it in, then settled on the couch as his wife came in, carrying a beer for him, a juice for the boy, and water for her. He waited until they were both settled, then started the movie and willed himself to relax.

He had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to get much more time to do so. And his gut was already telling him that the next time he left, it was going to be a rough one.

***MAG***

The next few days were uncomfortable. The cloud cover never broke, never rained. It thinned at times, to a dim gray rain-cloud kind of cover, but the overcast was suffocating, and the periods of thicker clouds and purplish lightning were unnerving.

The weather made his son restless enough that the usually quiet kid was fidgeting and hyper, sometimes needing to be scolded to do his chores and his homework. Cole hated keeping him inside, especially after the first few days when the 'possible rain' excuse began wearing thin, but there was no way he was exposing his kid to whatever was out there, anti-possession necklace or not. It was bad enough sending the kid to school every day, or when his wife went to run errands.

The base was worse. He was acutely aware of the fact that none of his team members or fellow soldiers were protected. As far as he knew, none of them had even the basic exposure to the supernatural that he'd received. That was not a comforting thought. Nor was the knowledge that any one of them could possibly be possessed by a demon, or a monster like Kitt. And there'd be no way to tell until something went wrong. And wrong could get bloody pretty fast.

The combined tension, and the fact that no one besides him had any idea about what might be happening left him feeling keyed up, constantly on edge. It was worse than being on a mission. He had nothing to do, no plans he could make.

Finally, at the end of the week, he risked sending Dean a short message. 'Any ways to covertly identify black-eyes?' Not that he even knew if demons were involved, but he'd seen the black smoke demons emitted and it looked similar. Besides, it gave him something to do.

Dean sent one back: 'Holy water in coffee, salt spilled somewhere, Devils trap hidden under a rug or something. Use the word Christo.'

The exchange settled him a little, but the rest of the base was still keyed up and on edge, and the mood got under his skin. Everyone from the base's commanding general to the newest raw recruit was frustrated and restless, cursing the strange weather and the never-ending cloud cover.

More than once, he was tempted to go to his superiors and tell them what he knew. But the fact of it was, he didn't know enough to justify a report, and what little he did know he was fairly certain they'd never believe. He couldn't go to the General and report 'sir, I believe this weather is supernatural in nature and may have something to do with demons and the possible end of the world'. He'd be out on psychiatric leave, mandatory medical discharge, before he had time to blink twice. And what would he tell his wife then?

At the end of the second week, he received a phone call. From Dean. At that point, he was so ready to simply shoot something that he barely took enough time to ask his commander's permission before he left and went out on the training grounds to return it. "This better be good, Deano."

"It isn't. But it might help. We've been talking things out, working on this problem. Cas thinks he's got an idea about how to start setting things right, but we honestly can't do it without you. You in?"

"How long?"

"No idea. Weeks, at the very least. Probably longer."

Cole huffed air out between his teeth. "Deano, it may have escaped your notice, but I have a job, plus a wife and kid. I can't just go AWOL at a moment's notice like you boys. You wanna pull me in, you're gonna have to help me find a damn good excuse. I just about used all my leave time hunting you and helping Kitt."

There was a long pause, then muffled noise, like Dean was talking to someone else in the background. Then shuffling, and a new voice on the line. "Cole?"

"Yeah, Sammy?" He relaxed a little. He liked Dean well enough, but Sam had always struck him as the more level-headed type.

"Who would most likely be able to conscript a soldier off a base? Especially one with your status?"

Cole blinked, then decided not to ask. "CIA, FBI, maybe MI-6 or Interpol. Anyone who needs a special duty mission."

"Fine. Which one would be most likely to have splinter groups with minimal communication, and least likely for your bosses to be looking at or trying to contact?"

"Off hand, I'd say Interpol. Sammy, what are you thinking?"

Silence for a minute, then Sam cleared his throat. "Probably better if I don't tell you. Just...be prepared, okay?"

He almost told Sam to forget it. Then he looked at the sky, the leaden clouds with their shadows. He thought about his wife and son, living their lives, wearing a necklace he'd told them never to remove for a danger he couldn't even tell them about. He thought about his buddies, his squad members and fellow soldiers on base, about what would happen if all hell broke loose. About the possibility of them becoming demons like Dean had been.

He let go of his anger. It wasn't like he'd never flown blind before. "Whatever we're doin', is it gonna keep me from my wife and kid?"

Sam's voice was quiet, somewhat regretful. "You ever have a mission that didn't?"

"Son of a bitch." He clenched his jaw hard, free hand curling into a fist at his side. But he already knew what he was going to do. If it was a choice between doing nothing and maybe saving the world...there wasn't any choice at all. "Fine. You do what you gotta do. Can I at least have a couple days?"

"Yeah. It'll take a couple days at least before we can do anything."

"Great. Later then." He clicked the phone shut before the hunters could say anything else, and went back inside.

 _ **Author's Note:** Yep, so this is officially an AU with Season 11 coming out._

 _I'm not military, and I've never been military. I used stuff I picked up from movies and TV shows. If it's inaccurate, I apologize. Not a lot of this is going to involve Cole in the military, so please bear with me. And if you feel like making suggestions on improvements, please do._

 _Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4: Assignment Winchester

**Chapter** **Four:** **On Assignment Winchester**

He spent the rest of the day keyed up, angry and resigned at once. It wasn't his first 'emergency' mission. He was Black Ops, after all. These things happened. Hostage situations, war-front stalemates. But this felt different. It felt like when he'd been hunting Dean. A mission with no end in sight, no idea of a final objective. Just waiting for the moment that was 'Mission Go', not knowing when or how or even if it was going to come.

The following days were no better. He packed a small bag, told his wife and son that he was awaiting orders about a possible assignment. He told his wife in the privacy of their bedroom that if he went, it would be a long tour, and a dangerous one, because he'd never lied to her about things like that. Then he held her while she cried softly in his arms.

Sometimes, he hated that he was a soldier. Sometimes, he hated the fact that he'd stumbled onto the supernatural world and the Winchester brothers even more.

He was sitting at his desk, five days after Dean's call, when a soldier from Base Command entered his platoon's work area. "Commander Cole Trenton. You've been summoned to the General's office. Orders are to report immediately."

"Yes sir." He saluted his superior, then followed the general's aide back to the main building, inside to the door, and waited while the man announced him.

"Commander Cole Trenton reporting."

"Send him in." The aide moved out of the way.

Cole stepped inside, saluted the general. "Sir." He focused on keeping his face still, expressionless. Otherwise he'd have been staring in shock.

Sam, Dean, and the angel Cas were all three standing in the office. All three wearing black suits, white dress shirts, black ties. All of them looked very professional, and very serious. And very, very authoritative. If he hadn't known them, known what they truly were, he'd have definitely believed they were government. From the way Cas, arguably the smallest of the three, was radiating authority, he'd have assumed they were upper ranking government at that.

"Commander, come in. Shut the door." Cole did as he was told. "These gentlemen are agents White, Elliot, and Winters, from Interpol, special division. They have an assignment for you, if you'll accept it." the General's gaze flicked over him. "At ease, Commander."

Cole settled into at ease position. "Sir, am I permitted to know what the particulars are before I decide?"

Sam was the one who spoke up. "Our team has been assigned to determine the causes behind the unusual global weather that's been occurring for the past two and a half weeks. And, if possible, to counteract whatever is being done."

Cas spoke up next. "We require assistance in our mission. The records we accessed indicate that you have both the experience and the necessary physical, mental and emotional qualifications to serve as a prime candidate for recruitment."

The way he spoke...Cole had almost pegged him for a minor league player, angel powers aside, some sort of holy paper pusher, or maybe an angel medic or something. He'd seemed so unassuming. But the way he spoke now...he revised his opinion quickly. Whoever and whatever the angel was, he'd seen some serious action, and he knew how to be the boss.

He swallowed hard. "Am I allowed any further information?"

The three men exchanged looks, then Cas nodded. Sam cleared his throat. "Normally, we don't disclose our mission details to anyone not already on board, however, in this case..." He flipped open a note book, pulled from a breast pocket. "According to the results of our investigation so far, we've discovered that this incident is being perpetrated by a rising underground terrorist group, who recently became active. They have excellent civilian blending capabilities, and we believe they may have started as a low level organization that recently experienced a surge in recruitment due to some unknown cause. We can't tell you the details of how they're causing this strange weather pattern, but based on our analysis of the situation, we do have a lead on a possible counter-measure. However, implementing it will require collecting the necessary components from several different locations, most likely some deep in enemy territory. Hence our need for a soldier of your particular talents." He folded the notebook closed again. "Unfortunately, I can't tell you anything more than that, Commander. I can't tell you the number of components, or where you'll be required to go, or how long it will take. You'll either have to agree to come with us on the information I've given you, or decline."

Cas nodded. "Knowing that, if you decline, this mission will most likely fail."

Cole tensed at that. He'd already agreed to come with them. He didn't need them to throw in jabs like that. That was hitting below the belt. He turned to the general. "Sir?"

The general gestured. "It's a high risk mission Commander. I know you have family, so I'll allow you to make the call. But I will make arrangements for your family if you choose to accept. And I will inform your commanding officers and your squad."

He nodded. That the general had already planned for his absence meant the other man thought he should go. And if he was that easy to convince, considering Cole's Black Op status, it meant top brass was as worried as the rest of them. "Sir, respectfully request permission to be released on temporary assignment to assist Interpol special division team."

"Granted." The general signed a few pieces of paper, had him sign two, then sorted them into a folder. "I understand these gentlemen are in a hurry, Commander, so pack your bags and get going. You're on assignment now. Dismissed."

"Yes sir." He saluted, turned on his heel and left. He heard Sam murmur something, then the three men followed him out.

***MAG***

Within twenty minutes, he was off base. Within an hour, he'd picked up his bag from home, kissed his wife goodbye, stopped by the school to tell his son he was leaving for a while, and rejoined the men in their car. He wanted to take the Jeep, but having one car was more economical. Besides, the Impala was spacious enough, and he wasn't about to foot the gas bill for whatever road travel they needed to do. He left the school and settled into the back seat of the car, still twisted up and fuming inside.

The angel, Cas, was sitting in the back seat with him, which kind of surprised him, though he was far too keyed up to comment. They were all silent as they pulled out onto the highway, and he'd almost gotten used to it, when Cas spoke. "I apologize."

He blinked, startled out of his preoccupation. "Excuse me?"

Cas blinked, looking much less authoritative in the back seat, more like the angel he'd met at the bunker several months ago. "I can tell you're angry with me. About what happened in the office. Unfortunately, my people skills are somewhat lacking."

The memory of the angel's last comment flared hot and sullen. "Really?"

Sam coughed from the front side passenger seat. "Actually, it isn't Cas's fault. Dean and I figured we really needed to push the whole 'mightier than you and none of your business' routine, to keep your boss from asking for too many details."

Cas frowned. "Is that why you instructed me to be the...'douchebag dick' you first met?"

Sam smiled. Dean laughed, and Cole found himself startled into relaxing. Hearing those words come out of an angel's mouth was funny, even with the situation.

Dean's chuckle died into a smirk. "Yeah, Cas. That's exactly why. And you pulled it off. Perfect performance, buddy."

Cas's brow furrowed, head cocking to one side. "I do not think I wish to be good at that role any more. It's...unpleasant." Cole noticed the odd shadows in the angel's eyes, a tensing of his shoulders.

Sam laughed a little. "Well, hopefully we won't need it any more."

"Hopefully." Cas relaxed a little. Cole wondered about the exchange. He had a feeling there was a story there.

But there were more important things to deal with. He cleared his throat. "So...what's this actually about, fellas? Cause you'll excuse me if I say that I don't really believe it's a terrorist group with global climate change technology. That doesn't sound like your standard business, and there's no way something like that could be developed completely off the radar. Somebody would have heard some chatter, and my friend in MI-6 says they have nothing."

Everyone's smile faded. Dean's hand clenched on the wheel. "It isn't. And it's not terrorists. But it's probably better we fill you in at the Bunker. Less risk that way."

"Fine with me." He actually could understand the idea of waiting until they got to a secure location. He leaned against the window and tried to relax.

That lasted half an hour before he gave it up. He was still too on edge. And too curious.

He looked over at the angel sitting beside him, behind the driver's seat. Cas looked comfortable, relaxed, not at all the way he would have pegged an angel looking while riding in a car. He also looked different somehow from the last time they'd met, though Cole couldn't pin down the difference.

Cas turned, cocked his head. "Is there something you need?"

"Not really. Just wonderin' why an angel was riding around in a car." Come to think of it, hadn't Castiel been driving that gold Cadillac when they met the first time?

Cas shifted uncomfortably. "Since the Fall, no angels have been able to fly while on Earth. And even if that weren't the case, my wings were...damaged. They haven't healed yet." He rolled his shoulder, as if they were sore and aching.

Cole picked out one fragment of the sentence, connecting it to something the angel had said before. "Thought you were running with borrowed wings."

"I was. We were able to retrieve my original Grace a few months ago. I managed to force Metatron to take me to the place he stored it."

"Metatron?"

Dean snorted. "Scribe of God. Real douchewad. He was the one who caused the angels to fall. He used Cas's grace as part of the spell. Lucky us, there was some left over."

"Indeed. Or I most likely would have gone through a second burn out by now."

Cole shifted. He wasn't quite following this conversation. "Burnout?"

Cas looked at him, abashed and hesitant. "Borrowed Grace...Grace isn't meant to be transferred like that, taken like that. When it burns out, it kills the angel. I nearly died once before, but a...an acquaintance gave me a second Grace to heal me." His shoulders shifted again. "I much prefer having my own Grace back. It's more comfortable by far, and much less volatile."

"I'll bet." He considered. "So what happens when an angel loses his...Grace, or whatever? You told me it was angel essence...that like a soul or something?"

"Or something. It is...somewhat similar to a soul. But the distinctions are very difficult to explain. If an angel loses his or her Grace, they die. Or become human." Cas shifted, a restless, fidgeting motion. "Becoming human...it has it's good points, but it is very uncomfortable."

There was definitely a story _there_. But Cole saw the way Dean's eyes darkened in the rear-view mirror, the way his hands clenched on the steering wheel. The way Cas's expression settled into shadows, lines of sorrow, lines of pain. The way Sam's jaw clenched, ever so slightly.

Time to change the subject. He was curious, damn he was curious, but he knew when to push and when to leave alone, and now was obviously not the time to ask. He cleared his throat. "You got that right." He saw an exit on the highway."Hey, Deano, any chance of stopping for lunch soon? You boys cleared me off the base before noon chow call, and a man's gotta eat."

Everyone in the car visibly relaxed. "Sure. We'll stop at the next diner we see."

They pulled off the road thirty minutes later, into a small roadside establishment. Cole and Dean ordered burgers. Sam got a salad. Cas didn't order anything but black coffee. Cole eyed the angel. "Don't know whether I'm more surprised that you drink coffee, or that you ain't ordering anything else."

A small smile crinkled Cas's face. "I do like food. Or, I did. But..." Dean coughed, eyes flicking to the waitress in a clear warning. Cas blinked. "My senses are different from most people. Especially now. Most foods are too bland for the taste to come through properly. Coffee, on the other hand..." He lifted his cup and sipped, eyes lighting with pleased satisfaction. "This is good."

Dean took a wary sip of his own. "Not bad."

The meal was spent in companionable quiet, more comfortable than he would have expected it to be. He was prepared to pay his own way, but to his surprise, Sam picked up the tab. He wasn't surprised to see that the name on the card was not Sam Winchester. He looked at the hunter with a question in his eyes. Sam smiled tightly. "Hunting doesn't pay big. But it isn't stolen, if that's what you're worried about."

Credit card scam. Well, there were worse things in the world, and he was pretty sure Sam wasn't kidding about the lack of pay. Not with everything else he'd seen. It was a damn shame though. He decided not to say anything.

Dean had noticed the exchange. "We'll stop somewhere with a game tonight, earn some real cash."

"If you're talkin' poker, I'm in." Cole nodded.

"Deal. You take cards, I'll take pool, Sammy and Cas can run sidelines. Switch as we need." Cas frowned, and Dean grinned as he rose and clapped him on the shoulder. "No hookers this time. I promise. Unless..."

"No. No thank you." Cole watched in fascination as the angel flushed slightly. Dean smirked, and Sam covered a cough that was probably a strangled laugh.

The afternoon went by in a blur of changing country-side, old rock music from the radio that Dean turned on an hour in, and the occasional rest stop. It was just about dinner time when Dean pulled them into a bar. "This looks good."

Sam nodded. "So...start sober, lightweight drinkers?"

"That's the plan. Then I'll wrangle into the pool table, if they got one. Cole can hit a card game, if there's one going on. If there isn't..."

"I'll join Sam playing semi-drunk supporter. And the angel can be the responsible one tryin' to get us out the door before we make a fool of ourselves. Right?" It seemed like a solid plan. Of the four of them, the angel was easily the most reserved looking.

"Pretty much. Unless he's still a lightweight. Then Sam can be the responsible one." Dean tilted his head back and around. "Cas?"

A small furrow appeared between Castiel's eyebrows. "I'm...not sure. I haven't attempted drinking since I became an angel again."

"Right. Well, two beers will tell us if you've mojo'd up your old tolerance. If you get hammered off that, you're at your normal. If not, they don't have enough alcohol to get you drunk, and we're good." Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Cole frowned. "Do I wanna know how you boys know how much liquor gets an angel drunk?"

Cas frowned. "During the Apocalypse. I received some...upsetting news."

Sam grinned. "I called him for help on something, he showed up totally tanked. Just barely upright and conscious, and so...annoyed. When I asked what happened, he just said: 'I found a liquor store. And I drank it.' Then Dean comes back from a walk, asks where he's been, and he's just like 'on a bender'. It was..." The smile faded.

"Yep, and that's enough of that." Dean slapped his brother's knee. "Come on. Drinks, dinner and dollars await us."

There weren't any card games going, so Cole passed Dean half his cash to get in on the pool games. He always packed a fair amount when he was on a mission, in case of emergencies, and for discretionary spending.

The food was good. Two beers later, he was feeling a little relaxed, but nowhere near drunk. Cas proved to be unfazed, muttering "I can't even feel it. It's like drinking water." in a sideways tone to Dean.

Dean and Sam were both boisterous, laughing. Dean's movements were looser, relaxed and on the edge of boneless when he ambled over to the pool game. Sam didn't seem much better. If he hadn't been watching their eyes and stances, wary for all their supposed relaxed state, he'd have really believed they were three sheets to the wind.

Two hours later they were shuffling out the door, three beers each further along and a few hundred dollars richer. Cole was impressed. He settled himself into the back seat in a loose slouch. "You boys are regular pros at this, aren't you?"

Sam shrugged. "Technically, it's less illegal than credit card scams, and not nearly as traceable."

Dean snickered. "More fun too." He squinted at the lights. "We're about four hours out from the Bunker. I say we just drive on in, skip a motel bill."

"Works for me." Sam settled into his seat with a boneless ease that spoke of years of experience.

Cole allowed himself to lean back. "Sounds great. Wake me when we get there." He closed his eyes. He was aware of the car starting, the subtle jerk as Dean put it into gear, and then he was gone, drifting off on the lassitude produced by most of a six-pack and a full day.

He woke to fluorescent lights in his eyes, and what appeared to be a fairly large parking garage. He blinked blearily, wincing at the low headache in his temples. He hadn't drunk enough for a serious hangover, but he wasn't in top condition either. He pushed himself upright. "Where's this?"

"Home sweet Bunker, from the garage entrance." Dean snaked the keys from the ignition. "Come on, we'll bed you and Cas down in a couple of the guest rooms, let you sleep off the booze."

"Sounds great." He cracked a stiff shoulder and shoved his way out of the back seat, stumbling a little. "At some point though, you boys might want to fill me in on this mission of ours. I don't like flyin' blind."

Sam popped the trunk and handed him his travel bags. "We will. But trust me, it's better on a clear head and breakfast."

"Whatever you say, Sammy." He followed the younger Winchester into the main Bunker area, into the dormitory area he remembered from his last visit. Sam even gave him the same room. He walked in, shut the door, then dropped onto the bed.

He wasn't really that tired. He'd had more strenuous days than this, harder missions. He'd periods where he'd gone two, three, once even four days with less than a hour's sleep between them. But the past two weeks of hyper-vigilance, of waiting for something bad to happen, had been wearing. And there was certain amount of relief in knowing that he was doing something. He had a purpose. There was a plan to counteract whatever was happening, and he could do something about it. That was enough to ease some of the coiled tension from his muscles and his mind.

Plus, he was teamed with some competent fighters, hunters, and an angel. No matter how unassuming Castiel had looked riding in the car or sitting at the bar, he remembered the angel in the general's office. He'd never met anyone yet who could pull off that kind of authority without something to back it up.

Cole sighed, and allowed himself to relax back into sleep.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Up next...Cole gets his mission._


	5. Chapter 5: Mission Archangel

**Chapter** **Five:** **Mission** **Archangel**

Cole woke the next morning with cotton-mouth and a mild headache. It wasn't comfortable, but he'd woken up worse, and in worse places than the Bunker room Sammy had put him in. It was a small room, with a double bed and a desk, a mirror over a tiny sink. As good or better than some of the barracks quarters he'd lived in as a new recruit. And better than a lot of places he'd holed up in during his duty tours and his missions.

He dressed in clean clothes, washed his face and did a quick shave, then wandered out into the main area, up the stairs until he found the entrance hall he remembered. Castiel was sitting at a table, pouring over a book that looked older than dirt and heavy. The angel looked up when he entered. "Good morning."

"Morning. Sam and Dean around?" he fought a yawn and lost.

"They're getting breakfast." Castiel...Cas, that was the angel's nickname, set the book to one side. "I can show you to the kitchen..."

"Just point me in the right direction, and I'll find it. You keep reading or whatever." He hadn't forgotten the odd conversation about food. "Unless you want breakfast too."

Cas considered, then put the book down completely and stood up. "I believe Dean is making coffee."

Cole smiled. "Now you're talking my language."

The angel frowned. "I believe I was..." He paused, then blinked. "That was a figure of speech."

"Uh...yeah. So, breakfast?" He wasn't up to sorting out angel behaviors before morning coffee.

Cas led him through a doorway, down a short hallway. The smells of fresh coffee, baking batter and fresh bacon hit his nose, waking him up considerably. He'd never been one to get the sick headaches that usually plagued folks with hangovers, and he was glad of it now.

Dean was at the stove. Sam was at the table looking up local news on a laptop when he came in. The oldest Winchester gave him a bright grin. "Well, look who decided to join us. Was beginning to think you'd sleep all day."

"Not in my nature, Deano." He saw the full coffee pot. "Got a spare mug?"

Sam got up, got him a cup. Dean dished up a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs and handed it to him, then took another plate to his brother, who took it with a muttered 'thanks' and began eating with absent-minded intensity. Cole watched, vaguely amused, while Castiel got himself a cup of coffee and stood drinking it, watching awkwardly.

Two cups of coffee and a clean plate later, he felt more like himself. More to the point, he felt impatient. He put his dishes in the sink and turned to his hosts. "Okay. I've had breakfast and a solid eight hours, and we're in your clubhouse, so why don't you boys fill me in?"

Sam looked up from his laptop, met his brother's eyes. Then he snapped the computer shut. "Come on up to the library."

Cole followed them up, settled into a chair. He was beginning to feel that familiar tense frustration in his muscles. "What's this all about?"

Dean settled at the table. "End of the world. Possibly the end of all creation, actually."

Tension coiled with ice. "Explain."

Dean cracked a smile with no humor whatsoever in it. "You a church-going man?"

"I've been. Not a regular, but I know the basics. Your point?"

"At the beginning of your Bible, there's a creation story." Cas's voice was low, solemn, putting him instantly on edge. "In it, God separates the Darkness from the Light, and creates the first day." Cas paused. "The truth is, the reality of the situation was much more complicated. The Darkness...it's a force, but a sentient one, a powerful one. It's...demonic essence, in a sense, without a human mind to control it. Another way to say it...it's chaos, destruction in it's raw form. But aware. God and his archangels didn't so much separate the Darkness as they forced into confinement. God sealed the Darkness away from the world."

"All right. With you so far." Cole flexed his hands. He wanted to shout at the angel to get to the point, but no good commander turned down information. Especially background intel on a mission. Just because it was bible stories instead of soldier stats was no reason to rush things.

Cas swallowed, looked at his hands. "After...after God sealed the Darkness, he gave the lock and key to it's prison to his lieutenant, the Morningstar. Lucifer."

Cole frowned. "This would be the same Lucifer...as in the Devil? Satan?"

"Yes." Castiel swallowed again, and Cole could see grief, old grief, in his eyes. "The Darkness corrupted him, until he Fell and was cast into the Pit. According to angelic lore, it is believed that Lucifer used the corruption within himself to create the first demons. He also used it to corrupt Man, by passing the lock and key on to his chosen servant, Adam and Eve's son."

That lost him. "Say what?"

"You ever heard of the Mark of Cain?" Dean's voice was rough. Sam grimaced.

"Once or twice. Story goes he killed Abel and was marked for it. Something like that."

"Pretty accurate. Only, the Bible got the source of the Mark wrong. Wasn't a gift from God, it was a Mark from Hell. From Lucifer. And it wasn't just some pretty little tattoo either. The Mark of Cain was the spell lock holding the Darkness confined." Dean's smile was edged, bitter.

Something clenched in his stomach. "I get the feeling that 'was' is the key word here."

Sam sighed. "A couple years ago, Dean and I ran across a demon named Abaddon. The last Knight of Hell. Knights...they're way more powerful than the average demon, and you can't kill them with ordinary weapons. And Abaddon had a beef with us. So, we went looking for a Plan B, and an...acquaintance of ours led Dean to Cain and convinced him to pick up the Mark, and Cain's weapon, the First Blade."

Dean nodded. "When you first met me? That was when I had the Mark, after I got knifed by Metatron and turned into a demon." He gestured to his brother. "Sammy, he found a cure for the demon thing, got me back, but that wasn't the end of it. See, we found out pretty fast that the Mark...it likes destruction. It likes killing. Try to hold back, and it just twists you until something gives."

"Until something gives... that sounds ominous."

Sam barked out a short, painful laugh. "Yeah. It's as bad as it sounds. Cain, the original Cain, he went off the reservation after Dean took the Mark, started killing off his descendants. Men, women, children. Dean had to kill him to stop him from murdering a ten year old kid."

Cole twisted his head to look at the elder Winchester. "So now you're going off the reservation."

The twist to Dean's lip couldn't even remotely be called a smile. Even grimace was kinder. "Nope. I already went off the reservation. See, we found this potential fix-it spell in an old book. Problem is, there was another family after it. They killed our friend, and I took a little walk on the Dark Side. There ain't a single one of those bastards left, not even the innocent little nerd they dragged along. And I did worse." His hand clenched into a fist.

Castiel stood up, moved to Dean's side. "Dean..." He put a hand on the hunter's shoulder, slow and careful. His manner reminded Cole of when he and his team went into a hostage retrieval, had to talk down some poor spooked out bastard, or a prisoner gone crazy with stress and adrenaline. "It's over. And I...I understand. It wasn't you." Dean didn't answer, but some of the tension went out of his shoulders.

Sam took over again. "Long story short, Dean was losing it, so I convinced Cas and this witch I knew to cast the spell to remove the Mark. To obliterate it. And the spell worked. So, Dean's clean, but in the process, we blew the lock off the cage holding back the original source of all evil in this world. And now the Darkness is spreading, taking over."

Cole wanted to laugh. He did. It sounded like the plot for a fantasy horror novel or something. But all three of them were dead serious. And besides... "The cloud cover. That's part of it?"

"Yeah. But worse...demonic omens are at a level we haven't seen since the Apocalypse. I've been tracking them, with other hunters." Sam waved a hand at the laptop. "And monsters? Worse than ever. One guy put out word yesterday that he went on a werewolf hunt...the werewolf changed out of moon phase, and it took three silver bullets to the heart to drop him."

Cole grimaced. "Guessing that's real bad." He sighed. "Okay. You've given me the briefing history. Skip to the part where we have a plan to stop this and I have a part in it."

Castiel spoke. "I've checked with my siblings in Heaven...there aren't any records on how God defeated the Darkness. And since the battle predates Creation, including the formation of most of Heaven's Host, there are no records of how it affects living things, the world...or angels beyond what it did to Lucifer. Only God and the archangels know what happened, how to defeat the Darkness."

"Perfect. So why don't we ask? Ask God, or an archangel."

"The archangels are either dead or imprisoned in the deepest Cage of Hell." Castiel's voice was heavy. "Michael and Lucifer fell into the Cage together when we aborted the Apocalypse. Raphael was killed two years later, during a civil war in Heaven. And Gabriel..."

"Yeah. I remember. Took on the Devil, got his ass blown to smithereens. I got a piece of him inside me." He fought the urge to go looking for a beer. "What about God? Try asking him?"

"God left the building before Apocalypse 1.0 even started." Dean lip curled. "If ever there was a deadbeat dad..."

Cole stiffened. He wasn't the most devout of men, but still, that was a little too far. "Deano..."

"He is not exaggerating." Castiel broke in before he could get wound up further. "During the Apocalypse, I searched for God and was told he refused to help us. That he wasn't interested in intervening on Earth, not even to stop it's destruction." He gave Cole a sad, slightly bitter glance. "That was the reason I became...inebriated."

"When you drank the liquor store."

"Yes." Cas shook his head slightly, as if to shake off unpleasant memories. "The point is, we can't ask God for help. Raphael is destroyed. It would be folly to attempt to reach Michael or Lucifer, assuming that either one of them would be sane. But Gabriel..."

He paused. "I have...died, and been resurrected a number of times. Reformed. If there is an angel capable of understanding the process, it would be me. When I remembered that you carried Gabriel's Grace...there is a method which might enable us to combat the Darkness."

"I'm all ears." He sat forward.

"If we could gather the fragments of Gabriel's Grace, combine them..." Castiel frowned. "At the very least, that much combined energy could be forged into a powerful heavenly weapon. In the proper hands, it would be formidable. But there is another possibility. There's a chance that reuniting Gabriel's Grace, putting it back together, would also revive Gabriel himself. If that happens, if Gabriel were revived with his original memories and abilities..."

"Then you'd have back someone who knows what he's doing, how to fix the whole mess. Kinda like pulling a top general out of retirement."

"Yes." Castiel nodded.

"Sounds like a plan. So...where do I fit into all this?"

Sam shifted in his seat. "Cas came up with this idea a week ago. We started looking then for any place that Gabriel's Grace might have landed. We can go to those places, but finding the Grace...that's a bit trickier."

Castiel nodded. "Grace, separated from it's angel, can be hidden by any number of things. Having you search with us...the Grace inside you should resonate with another fragment of Gabriel's grace, make it easier to identify it. Also, if angels always explode and leave traces in the human world, then I'll need to have something I can compare any grace fragments to, to be sure they are Gabriel's."

"So I'm supposed to be some sort of archangel essence metal detector. I can live with that." Sounded easy, actually.

Castiel frowned, and something about the look in his eyes made Cole sit up straight. The angel looked him in the eye a moment, then away. "There is...one other matter." His hands knotted together. "The Grace...it has to be contained. There are special containers, heavenly containers, that can contain Grace. There may even be some that could contain an archangel. However...it wouldn't aid the fusion process. Putting Gabriel's grace in a vial...it might unite the Grace, but it couldn't truly heal it. For that, the Grace needs to be contained in a vessel."

"A vessel?"

Sam broke in. "He means a human. A human vessel. Someone has to agree to hold it."

Cold, then heat swept over him. "And you want me to volunteer."

Cas's lips pinched together, then he nodded. "You've already proven that you're compatible with his Grace. Which means that you're a suitable vessel."

"And if I say yes?"

"If Gabriel's Grace becomes...simple energy, simple power, then it would...empower you. You would become a soldier, a weapon of Heaven. I'm not sure how it would work, how it would manifest. There is some chance it could endanger your life, but if it did, then I would remove it from you."

"Okay. And if it turns out your brother gets revived?"

"Then Gabriel would possess you. In the beginning, I suspect he would be fairly weak, but as we gather more fragments, as more of his...essence, his personality came together, he would be stronger. Eventually, his sheer strength would most likely overwhelm you. At that point, Gabriel would most likely take charge of your body." Cas's hands locked together.

"Son of a bitch." He fell back into his chair. "So you want me to either become some kind of Heavenly nuke, complete with potential meltdown, or let some angel take over my body, my life."

"That's about the size of it."

Cole took a deep breath. "What about my family?"

"If you become Heaven's weapon, you could be released. I would do all in my power to ensure it. And I do have some goodwill in Heaven, after routing Metatron. If Gabriel returns...I don't know. It's possible he would leave you for a vessel of his own choosing. Or not. It would be up to my brother." Cas's hands clenched together tighter, and the angel looked at him, eyes full of regret. "Please, understand. I can...sympathize with your reluctance. I do understand that we're asking a great deal from you. If I were certain of another option, I wouldn't ask. But...we have no guarantee that any other Grace fragments found a human host. If you refuse, then we'll have to take the Grace from you, but there's no certainty that we'll find another vessel."

Castiel paused. "If the Grace reforges into a weapon, then we'll need a soldier to handle it. Your history and skills show you to be well suited for such a role. If Gabriel returns...of all the archangels, he was the least militaristic. The one least suited for war. But...if he were to be reborn, with access to the memories and talents of a trained soldier, a trained warrior...Gabriel would be a most formidable opponent. Even before, he was not weak, or unskilled. Add the talents you possess to my brother's raw power and ingenuity, and I suspect the result would be a power that not even Michael and Lucifer would choose to defy."

"Son of a bitch." Cole clenched his jaw together. His heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through his bloodstream. "You want me to..." He sat forward, elbows on knees, fighting to process.

He wasn't a stranger to do or die missions. Or to missions where there was a high likelihood of never coming home. It was a risk every soldier took on deployment. He could live with being some kind of heavenly detonator. But the idea of having an angel possess him, something taking over his body...to be trapped inside himself, never to go home while someone used him...every instinct he had rebelled against it.

But the other choice was to risk the end of the world.

He looked up. "I ain't gonna lie, this is one hell of a decision." He swallowed bile in his throat. "Can I at least think about it?" He wasn't used to being so indecisive. He was a man of action, a soldier. But this...

Dean smiled. "Yeah. We're still working on our hunting plan, so we probably won't be ready to head out till tomorrow. And hey, if you don't want to do this, no hard feelings. No shame."

Cole snorted. "You don't mean that. You and Sammy, you'd do this if it was you."

Sam chuckled. "Actually, during the Apocalypse, it was us. Both of us. And we both said no. At least, right up until the end. And even then, Dean never said yes."

Dean shrugged. "Came close a few times. Cas had to knock sense into my head once." He glanced at the angel. "Point is, you don't wanna do this, we understand. Cas has a Grace container, and we'll stick to the Grace hunting and hope for a suitable vessel to pop up."

Cole nodded. "Right." He stood, restless and needing to move. "Look...I'm gonna walk around a bit, if you boys don't mind."

"Sure. We'll leave the Bunker unlocked. Just...don't open any locked doors inside. The guys that had this place before us had some weird-ass shit stored around here."

"Got it." Cole glanced at each of the three men, then turned and headed for the door to the outside.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Poor Cole...that's a tough call._


	6. Chapter 6: Angels, Vessels and Choices

**Chapter Six: Angels, Vessels and Choices**

Cole spent a good two hours running outside. He would have spent longer, but the heavy leaden atmosphere weighed on his nerves, and his awareness of what it represented sent tingles up his spine and wound him up. Every rustle of leaves seemed ominous. Finally he gave up and went back to the Bunker. Once inside, he got a bottle of water from the fridge and proceeded to lose himself in the hallways.

It was an interesting place. Strategically, it was a gold mine for a defensive position, hell if you were attempting prisoner extraction. Dozens of doors, several twisty little hallways, rooms that were a maze of shelves and containers. If he'd been a historian, the place was a mother-lode of information too. He spent a good half an hour in the computer room, marveling that the thing still functioned, and wondering who'd managed to connect it to a laptop and the internet. Someone with some serious technical know-how, the kind military intelligence would love to recruit.

From there he wandered back to the kitchen for a sandwich, then up into the library to look at the books. Hunting for more information never hurt. Maybe he could find out more about angelic possession, and vessels.

Half the books weren't even in English. The rest of them...there was a whole section on demons, something he wished he'd had access to while chasing Dean. Werewolves, fairies, vampires, ghosts, things he'd never even heard of were listed. There was even half a shelf dedicated to the Wizard of Oz, for some reason.

A soft shuffle startled him upright, and he turned to find Sam, holding three books and a notepad. "Hey, Sammy."

Sam nodded. "Hey. How's the thinking going?"

"Slow." He gestured to the shelf he'd been looking at. "Strange place to keep your fiction."

Sam glanced at the shelf, and a sad smile flickered across his face. "Not so strange, since Oz is actually a place. Fairy realm, you just have to have the right key to get in."

"Huh." He looked back at the books. "You're serious?"

"Yeah. We had a key, actually. But a friend of ours was using it to travel back and forth, and it got broken. So...no more keys to Oz, unless Dorothy comes back for some reason."

"Dorothy, like..."

"Yeah. Like the chick in the stories. Only a lot tougher than you'd expect. She's actually...pretty bad-ass. And very practical." Sam moved to shelve the books in his hands, eyes flicking along the spines.

Cole watched him. "Hey Sammy, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Sam shelved the last book, then turned to face him. "Shoot."

"You said you'd been possessed by an angel. What was it like?" He sat down on the edge of the table nearest him. "How'd you wind up being not possessed?"

"Huh." Sam sat down. "I guess I should have expected that." He frowned, hand tapping on the table next to his elbow. "Well, so I've actually been possessed twice. Once by Lucifer, and once by an angel named Gadreel."

"Possessed by Lucifer...like the Devil?"

"Yeah. I let him possess me so Dean and I could throw him into the Cage, in Hell. Not fun. Trust me, you don't want to know anything else about that. It hurt, and it sucked. The memories...yeah. Not going there." Sam's expression was tight, painful.

"Right. What about the other time...Gadreel, or whatever?"

Sam sighed. "I don't actually remember a whole lot. I was...I was really sick at the time. Dean actually tricked me into letting Gadreel possess me and sort of hide inside me, so he could heal me and keep me from dying. Most of the time, I was actually in control, and when I wasn't, I was sort of...stuck in this dream, where I was hunting with Dean, doing normal stuff. I'd probably still be lost if it hadn't been for Crowley."

"Crowley?" He hadn't heard that name before.

"Demon we know. It's a long story, but we had him captured, and he bargained his freedom for helping me cut Gadreel loose after Gadreel went rogue and started killing people." Sam shifted. "To be fair, Gadreel was being manipulated by another angel, but...he used my body to kill a friend of mine. And that was...that was kind of it for letting him stay with me. Crowley possessed me to break me out of the dream Gadreel held me in. After that, I revoked my permission for him to be there, and he left."

"So you can revoke permission for an angel to stay in you?"

"Yeah. But it's difficult. You have to force them out, and it's really, really hard."

"Damn." Cole sighed, then slid off the table and into a chair. "Nice to know there's an emergency out, at least."

"Yeah. There is." Sam sighed again. "Look, Cole...it's a tough choice. And believe me, I wish I could advise you one way or another. But it's...it's gotta be your choice. Seriously though, if you want a perspective viewpoint...try talking to Cas."

"To Cas? Your angel buddy who wants to stuff his brother inside me?" He liked Castiel, liked the serious, straightforward demeanor and the awkward sense of humor, but what the angel was asking him to do set his teeth on edge.

Sam smiled. "You'd be surprised. I don't think Cas is really any more eager to do this than you are. He's just...that's the only solution he sees. But Cas...he really does get the whole 'angel vs vessel' issue, a lot better than you'd think."

"If you say so." Cole thought a moment, then shoved himself to his feet. "Fine. So where would I find him?"

Sam glanced around the library. "He's usually here, so he's either in the Bunker looking for something, or he's outside, just...doing what Cas does." Sam shrugged.

"Gotcha." he considered a moment, then returned to the kitchen for a beer and made his way to the stairs leading to the front door.

He found the angel sitting on the hood of the gold Cadillac, completely still except for the slight breeze ruffling the ends of his hair. His back was slightly slumped, feet settled on the ground, hands in his lap. He looked oddly relaxed and watchful at the same time. Cole considered a moment, then moved forward until he could sit next to the angel. "See anything interesting?"

"Everything." Castiel's voice was soft. "I...this world, humanity...the flowers, the trees...it's beautiful. I know that many of my siblings would disagree, but I believe that this world truly is my Father's greatest creation."

Cole snorted. "If you'd seen half the shit I'd seen on tour in Iraq, you wouldn't be so sure."

Castiel turned to look at him, and Cole found himself caught by ageless eyes, serene and fierce, pain and joy and far too much knowledge swirling through the cobalt depths. Then Castiel looked away from him. "I assure you, I've seen just as much...shit...as you have. And I have seen...I have done...things you can't even imagine. And still...this world, these people...even the ones torn by war and sin and pain and misery...even so, I still believe this world is...precious." His head tilted back, looking at the leaden sky. "That it might be destroyed, partially through my own carelessness and folly...I regret that. I would prefer not to see it happen."

"Yeah. You and me both." He somehow couldn't doubt that Castiel meant every word he spoke.

They sat in silence, then Castiel spoke again. "You're apprehensive about the request I made of you."

"No joke." He snapped the cap off the top of his beer.

Castiel looked down at his hands. "If I could assure you, promise you, that everything would be fine, I would. If I could think of any other choice..."

"Yeah, I know. You already said. And I don't want meaningless promises." He'd been a soldier too long to trust them. Meaningless promises and platitudes were what you gave your platoon buddy when they were bleeding out in the desert, too far from help to be saved, and you were searching for a way to make their last moments a little more bearable. They were what you shared at 3 am in a foxhole, praying for a miracle so you could all get out alive. "Just...can I ask you some things?"

"Of course. Anything you wish." The angel turned to regard him.

"You honestly think bringing back this Gabriel character will help stop this?"

"I think that barring the return of God, which is far from certain, Gabriel's resurrection is the best chance we have."

"Fair enough." He sipped his beer, tilting his head back to look at the angel out of the corner of his eye.

Slightly tanned skin, weathered, with five-o-clock shadow. Windswept hair, so dark it looked black in the dim afternoon light. Lines around his eyes, crows feet that could have been created through laughter or sorrow either one. Firm jaw. It was hard to tell his physical condition under the suit and trench-coat, but he was betting the angel was in fair shape.

Cole swallowed. "If you're an angel...you have a vessel?"

Castiel's mouth tightened. "I..did have. Unfortunately, human souls cannot withstand a certain level of destruction. I was atomized twice during the Apocalypse." He looked down at his hands. "For some reason, I was revived in the physical form of my former vessel, but his soul was unable to remain on Earth and was sent to Heaven."

"He have a name? A family?" He wondered if angels even cared about that sort of thing.

"James Novak. But he preferred to be called Jimmy." Castiel's expression settled into lines of sadness. "He...had a wife. And a daughter, Claire." The angel exhaled softly. "His wife, Amelia, joined him in Heaven a few months ago. She was killed by a rogue angel. His daughter Claire is currently living with a friend of Sam and Dean's." He paused, and a shy sad smile twisted one corner of his mouth. "She calls me sometimes. On my phone."

"So you stay in touch with your vessel's family."

Castiel's hands tightened. "I do now. I...when I first possessed Jimmy, I did not. I only sought them out recently. My companion, Hannah...her vessel's husband found her. She was very in tune with her vessel's feelings, and the encounter upset her. She made me realize I had done Jimmy and his family a disservice by not maintaining contact." His hands clenched into fists. "I swore to Jimmy that I would keep his family safe. They survived the Apocalypse, but ultimately...I failed. By the time I remembered my promise, his wife had been taken prisoner, and I failed to save her. His daughter had been living on the streets, in group homes, neglected and used by her caretakers. She was nearly grievously injured and condemned to life as a felon before I found her." That small, sad smile reappeared. "She was...very angry with me, at first."

Cole swallowed hard. His stomach felt cold, leaden. The thought of his wife, waiting forever with no word on what had happened to him...his son, growing up without him...his platoon, replacing him, as the military wrote him off as AWOL or MIA. His hands clenched around his bottle. "How long?"

"I possessed Jimmy in 2008."

"And you never let him see his family, not once?" Anger coiled in his gut. He knew about long tours, every soldier faced the possibility of long deployment, or getting captured and being a POW for an unknown length of time. But to have some angel possess you, a being with that much power...

"He did return home once. I was...recalled from my duties on Earth, because my superiors suspected I was compromised. I had become more attached to the Winchesters, to humanity, than they thought was wise. During that time, I vacated Jimmy's body, and he returned home. But his family was attacked by demons, and he was wounded. I returned, and received permission from Claire to claim her as my vessel. Jimmy...he refused. He asked that I return to him and leave his daughter alone. I chose to grant his wish. I was destroyed by Raphael shortly afterward."

"No offense, but you ain't exactly inspiring me to take up the cause." He took a long pull from his bottle. "You make it sound like angels don't particularly care about their vessels, or the families they break up and leave behind."

"Many of them don't. Or didn't. I don't know if spending a year on Earth changed that for them. For some, perhaps. For myself...if I could go back in time, undo what I did...I would. If I had a choice, I would leave Jimmy alone, choose another vessel with less to lose. Or at least, I would have been kinder to him, to his family." Castiel's hands flexed, a restless movement. "I didn't talk to Jimmy much, when he was my vessel. But I know that being...attached to an angel...was frightening, often painful for him. We were at war with Hell, and he was a civilian. A civilian casualty, you might say." His eyes flickered up to meet Cole's then away, but not before Cole saw the regret in them.

"You ever go to Heaven and talk to him there?"

Castiel shook his head. "Angels are discouraged from disturbing souls in Heaven. And even if we weren't, I feel it would be...unfair, perhaps even cruel of me, to intrude on him any more than I already have."

There wasn't much he could say to that. Cole settled for sitting beside the angel, sipping his beer and thinking. Castiel's words didn't fill him with enthusiasm for the job, though he did appreciate that the angel wasn't lying to him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft ring of a cell phone. Not his. He glanced over just in time to see Castiel fumble a phone out of his pocket and touched the answer button before bringing it up to his jaw. "Hello Claire."

Claire. The name of the vessel's kid. Cole paused where he'd started to stand, then sat back down, watching as a fond smile curled one corner of Castiel's mouth upward, lighting his blue eyes with warmth.

"I'm doing well. And you? How are you doing? Are you and Jody and Alexa all right? Do you need...?" Castiel broke off, expression turning sheepish. "No, of course you can call me for anything. It doesn't have to be for a problem." His head cocked to one side, listening. "I...I don't understand. Is that good?" The angel blinked, puzzled, then smiled. "I see. That's...that's very good then. That's excellent Claire. And Alexa too. I'm glad you're both doing well." A small laugh trickled out of his throat. "Yes. I'm sure Sam and Dean would agree with you. But...it's good that she takes such good care of you." Another smothered laugh. "She's just looking out for...well, she is the sheriff."

Cole watched the angel speak to the daughter of the man he had possessed. He tried to imagine it, someone who wasn't him, but wore his face and his body, laughing with his son, praising him, listening as the boy told him things over the phone line. It made his heart ache so fiercely it was a physical sensation.

Castiel was smiling. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. You're a very smart girl Claire. I'm sure you'll do well at whatever you choose to do." A pause. "If you need assistance...I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I do have some resources." Another pause, and a slight frown. "I'm not sure that would be ethical, but if you truly wished...oh, sorry. My sense of sarcasm is still..." he broke off in another low laugh. "Yes, I am, I suppose. I don't think I'll get over it any time soon."

He paused, listening again, and his expression went from affectionately amused to concerned. "The weather is...Claire...please tell me you're all being careful. It's dangerous. Not the weather but...there are other things going on." He stopped. "Sheriff Mills is right to be cautious. What's happening is...it's world wide. And it's affecting monsters, and demons. Claire..." he exhaled. "Please tell me you have an anti-possession charm with you at all times." A second later, relief flashed across his face. "Good. That's good. It will keep you safe. And you...you still have the sword?" Another breath of relief. "Good. And salt?" His expression turned rueful. "I know. I just...I worry. What's happening..." He broke off. "Yes, Sam and Dean and I are looking into it. We actually...we may have a way...yes, I'm being very careful." His expression softened. "No...what I'm doing...well, yes, it's a little dangerous, but I'm not...I'm not the one at the most risk. No, not Dean either. Dean is...he's doing much better. We managed to solve his problem."

Right. Mark of Cain. Demonizing something or other.

Castiel huffed. "Sam is fine. Actually, we've...there's a man, his name is Cole Trenton. He's helping us." Castiel's eyes slid sideways to land on him. Cole shifted, suddenly aware that he'd been eavesdropping on an angel's private conversation. Castiel didn't send him away though, simply continued speaking. "Cole...he has an archangel's Grace fragment. We're planning on trying to find the other pieces, reform them." A pause, and Castiel winced. "I...it may not come to that. I promise, I won't try to force the issue. I won't...Claire, I swore I wouldn't do that again. Please, if you trust any promise I've ever made you..." He frowned. "Yes, Cole is here." He hesitated a moment, then turned and held the phone out. "She wants to speak to you."

Cole took the phone. "Cole speaking."

 _"The guy with the archangel fragment?"_ Claire had a strong voice, sharp with an edge of anger.

"That's me."

 _"Castiel said you were helping them reform the angel...did he tell you you might end up possessed? Might end up never going home?"_

"He told me." Cole settled back onto the car hood. Girl sounded upset.

 _"Yeah? You have a family?"_ There was a snap to her voice that would have made a drill sergeant proud.

"Wife and son. Boy just turned five." His gut clenched again.

 _"You do know, right? If you do this, if that angel revives and takes you over...you might never go home. They might never see you again. Just...maybe hear about you. Spend years, maybe the rest of their lives, wondering what happened, where you went."_ There was old grief and old bitterness in her voice. _"And maybe they'll pray for your safety, and you'll never even know, but your angel will, and you still might not come home, ever again."_

Cole swallowed hard. She wasn't saying anything he hadn't thought. "I know. Castiel made it pretty clear for me. He told me how things happened with your family."

 _"He tell you how my dad got killed being his vessel? Never came home, went to Heaven and my mom and I didn't even know. Did he tell you he never even stopped by until a few months ago, never even told us that my dad died years ago? Did he tell you that if he had, my mom would still be alive? If he'd just taken five minutes...my mom and I could have at least had a funeral and moved on."_

Castiel hadn't told him that, specifically, but he could remember where the angel had implied it. He could remember the sorrow in the angel's eyes. The remorse. "Yeah. He mentioned. Seemed real sorry about it." From the corner of his eye, he saw the angel wince, lips tightening in pain and regret as his hands knotted together in his lap.

 _"I know he is."_ There was a long huff of air, like an aggrieved sigh. _"He tries, he really does. And mostly I've had some time to yell at him, work things out."_ The anger in her voice had diminished. _"It's just...I can't believe he'd ask you to do something like that. That kind of thing..."_

Cole huffed out a small laugh. "Well, Claire, I don't know much about your daddy. But I'm a soldier. This kind of life is kind of what I signed up for. Protect and serve. I've been in war and I've been in some pretty tight messes in my time already. Seen some pretty bad stuff."

 _"My dad was a salesman. He never signed up for any of that crap. All he did was say yes because an angel asked him to and told him it would be for the good of the world."_

"He do any good?" Suddenly Cole wanted to know. Castiel had told him about war and his own death, but not what any of it had accomplished. He was a soldier. His life had been defined by the good he had done, the people he had saved. The bad things he had stopped. It was all that kept some of his nightmares at bay, the knowledge that he had helped or saved someone, made the world just a little safer for his family.

 _"Dean says my dad...his sacrifice saved the world. He said my dad helped Cas save us from...from the end of life as we know it, basically. From Hell on Earth, like, literally."_

And there it was. One salesman with an angel had saved the world, back when people like Cole and the government hadn't even known it needed saving. Wouldn't have even known how to save it if they had.

 _"You're going to do it, aren't you?"_ Claire's voice was sad, resigned. _"I can tell. The way you're silent. You're gonna go ahead and do it."_

"I ain't decided. But if I can save my family and my friends...might be worth it."

 _"It won't be to them. I should know. My dad said the same thing."_ She paused, and her voice was softer when she continued. _"I never told Castiel, but...I remember, when he was with me and my dad asked him to come back. My dad wanted to protect me from being Castiel's vessel. When he took Castiel a second time...he did it because he loved me. That was the last thing he ever said on Earth...that he'd rather be an angel vessel than let me do it, let me go through that."_ She sighed again. _"You know what I used to hate Castiel for the most? He never waited long enough for me to hug my dad, and tell him I loved him too. I never got to thank my dad. I never got to offer to free him, to make the same choice for him that he made for me. I never got to thank him for taking my place."_ There was an edge to the words that sounded like she was holding back tears. Then she made a rough, inarticulate noise. _"I wanna talk to him again. Put him back on."_

Cole held the phone out to the angel. Castiel took it silently. "Claire?" His voice was soft, a mix of apology and pleading that Cole wouldn't have believed if he hadn't heard it.

The angel sat silent for several moments, his eyes closed and pain written in the lines of his mouth, the set of his jaw. Then his hand tightened on the phone. "I promise Claire. I will do my best. I can't force Gabriel, but...I will. I'll look out for him. I'll make sure his family knows the truth, whatever happens. I promise." A pause, and then the faintest relaxation, faintest softening of the tension in his frame. "Yes. I'll call you too. As often as you want. Take care of yourself. And tell Jody...tell Jody we'll be in touch." A moment of hesitation, then: "Good bye Claire. Be safe." Then he lowered the phone and clicked it off.

Cole swallowed the last dregs of his now lukewarm beer. "What'd she say?"

A faint smile touched Castiel's mouth. "She ordered me to watch out for you, and not to let my...my dickbag asshole of a brother...leave your family in the dark." The smile disappeared, and Castiel's eyes met his. No celestial knowledge in them this time, just a compassionate awareness, a sympathy that went to his core. "Cole...if you truly don't wish to do this...you can say no. Sam and Dean are right. I do have a Grace container. I can contact Heaven for another option to hold Gabriel's power, if you want. You don't even have to come hunting with us. If it's what you want, I can extract the Grace, heal you, and send you home." He looked away. "Claire's right. It's not...it's not fair to ask you for this."

"No. It ain't. But that's life. Sometimes, you gotta be willing to give something up." Cole straightened. "I've been a soldier all my adult life. Started training when I was thirteen years old. I know what life's about. I know what it means to sacrifice something for your fellow man. It ain't easy, hell, sometimes it's damn hard, hardest thing I'll ever do, but sometimes it just has to be done. And if I don't do it...what then? Some poor sucker who's never seen a battlefield in his life gets roped in? Some civilian, like your Jimmy Novak, who doesn't have a clue what he's in for until it's too late?"

Castiel winced again. "I..I wish I could say that wouldn't happen. But..."

"But you can't. Like it or not...this...this is war. The damn strangest war I ever fought, and maybe we're still in the strategy stages, but that can make all the difference."

"Yes." Castiel nodded.

Cole inhaled, a deep lungful of the dusk air, then exhaled it out in a long, slow breath. "Do me a favor, will you?"

Castiel nodded. "Of course."

"Go in, get Sammy and Deano, tell them I'll be in in a minute with a final decision." He'd already made it, but he wanted some privacy for a moment.

"Of course." Castiel got to his feet, then turned and made his way inside the Bunker. Cole watched the last flash of tan trench-coat vanish through the door, then pulled out his phone and dialed.

Two rings, then a click. _"Trenton residence."_

Cole smiled. "Hey sweetheart. It's me."

 _"Cole."_

"Yeah. Listen...me and the agents are heading out tomorrow. They said I could keep in touch, but I don't know how regular it's gonna be. I got the mission briefing, and this one...it's gonna be a rough one. Maybe the hardest I've ever had."

 _"Oh. I...I see. Is it...dangerous?"_ A small, nervous sound that was half sigh, half sob. _"No. I know you can't tell me. Just..promise you'll stay safe?"_

"Promise I'll do my absolute best, as always." He took a deep breath. "Baby...I wanted to tell you something. If I don't make it home this round, I want you to know...I love you. You and the little guy both. No matter what happens out here...I love you both so much. I'll give it everything I have, to see you safe. That's the most important thing in this world to me."

A soft, choked sob. _"I know."_

He stood silent a moment, then murmured, "Hey...put the kid on for me?"

He heard her call his son to the phone, and a moment later there was a shuffling sound and a high, breathless voice. _"Daddy?"_

"Hey there kiddo." He smiled. Even now, a lump in his throat and his heart pounding, he was glad to hear his son's voice.

 _"Are you coming home soon, daddy?"_

He swallowed hard. "No. Afraid not buddy. Daddy's got a lot of work to do. I'm gonna be gone for a real long time. Don't know how long. But I promise I'll call, often as I can. And buddy...need you to remember something for me, okay?"

 _"Okay. Anything."_

"Remember I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world, except your mom. No matter what...I love you. And no matter how long I stay away, no matter what anyone says, you remember that everything I do, I do so you and your mom can be safe and happy. Okay? Can you remember that for me?"

 _"Yes dad."_ There was a moment of shy hesitation. _"I love you dad. I hope you're home soon."_

He coughed, his chest aching. "Me too buddy. Be good for your mom and give her a hug for me. I love you both." His throat hurt, and he hung up before the growing lump could choke his words. He didn't want his wife to hear that. It would only upset her.

Cole stood for a long moment, watching the sky turn darker as night fell. His heart ached, and his gut felt like he'd swallowed ice cold bullets, but it didn't change his decision. He knew what he was going to do. Finally, when the lump was mostly gone and he thought his voice might be steady, he turned and walked into the Bunker.

Sam and Dean and Cas were all waiting at the library table for him. Dean handed him a beer without a word. He pulled the top off, breathed deep. "All right. Let's do this." He held up his bottle, noticing the others already had theirs. "To fixing an angel and saving the world." He clinked bottles with the other three, then three back his head, downing half the beer in one long swallow.

He drank until his lungs burned, then he set the bottle on the table. "All right, where do we start?"

 ** _Author's Note:_** _And...they're off._


	7. Chapter 7: Elysian Fields

**Chapter Seven: Elysian Fields**

Dean smirked, then reached over and pulled a US atlas off a nearby chair. He flipped it open, then stabbed his finger down. "We start here."

Cole looked. "Muncie Indiana? What's there?"

"That's where Gabriel died. An abandoned hotel there." Sam grimaced. "We figured we'd go there first. At the very least, we should check if the wing marks are still there, and if there's any Grace in them."

Cole frowned. "Wing marks? That mean anything special?"

"An angel's wings are more heavily suffused with Grace than the rest of them, particularly if the angel is in a vessel. When an angel dies...the Grace explodes and burns the imprint of the wings into the nearest solid surface. Hopefully, there will be some fragments there, in the wing marks." Castiel's face was solemn.

Cole studied the map. "Looks like an all day trip. Unless we fly."

Dean shook his head. "No flying. Absolutely no flying. We'll take the car."

"Okay." Cole wasn't in the mood to argue. "So...anything I need to bring, besides a change of clothes?"

"Yeah, actually." Sam stood up and left the room, returning later with a small bundle, wrapped in a blanket. "If you're gonna travel with us, you probably need these."

Cole opened the blankets. There was an assortment of bullets in cases, some of them carved with odd little symbols. A flask of holy water. And, most prominently, a silver blade, about a foot-and-a-half long with an extra eight inches of handle. The handle was a simple silver rod, the blade triple sided with gleaming sharp edges that looked almost like pure silver. He hefted the weapon in his hand. Perfect balance; he could wield it hand-to-hand or throw it. "What's this?"

Castiel answered him. "It's an angel blade. After the Apocalypse and the civil war in Heaven, there were quite a few that were unclaimed. I appropriated some of them as weapons, in case my own was lost. Or for Sam and Dean. Given our mission and where it may lead, it seems fitting you should have one."

"Angel blade trumps just about anything, except a stronger angel." Dean nodded his head at the pile. "Also got you bullets with rock salt, devil's trap bullets, silver bullets, holy water, pure iron...basic hunter 101 kit with perks." he glanced at Cole. "Assume you got an anti-possession thing?"

Cole pulled out his medallion. Dean grimaced. "We'll stop by a tattoo parlor just to be safe. Trust me, last thing you wanna do is lose that in the middle of a fight."

"Tattoo it is then." Cole shrugged. "Already got a couple, one more won't hurt." He picked up the box of carved bullets. "So, what do these do?"

"Traps a demon in it's host body, seals their powers. It won't make them fully human, but it'll come close, and they're usually so shocked that it gives you time for a better solution before they come out of it." Sam grimaced. "Crowley being the exception. He's been shot so many times he's gotten really good at digging the bullet out fast. You'll probably just piss him off."

"Noted. Anyone got a photo, so I know what this guy looks like if I meet him? Solo, I mean. Never hurts to be prepared."

Dean flipped his phone open, tapped a few buttons, then turned the screen around. "That's Crowley."

Cole studied the picture. The man in the photo was roughly his height. Middle aged with thinning dark hair and silver stubble on his jaw. Stocky, slightly pudgy build, green eyes. Black suit with a black overcoat and a tie in muted grays and blues. "Looks like a business exec. How dangerous is he really?"

"Extremely." Cole blinked at the hard rasp in Castiel's voice. "Crowley is the King of Hell, has been since Lucifer was trapped in his Cage."

"Okay. So a heavy hitter. Got it." Cole fingered the angel blade. "This do any damage?"

Sam snorted. "It would. But Crowley has his own angel blade. And he's really, really good with it, in spite of appearances. Like, scary good."

"Noted." Cole studied the picture, then wrapped together the bundle Sam had given him. "If no one minds, I'm gonna go pack up for tomorrow, then hit the hay early."

"Sure. We'll probably do the same." Dean knocked back his beer. "Set the alarm for about dawn."

"Got it." Cole drank the last dregs of his, then gathered the supplies together and made his way to his room.

***MAG***

They left the bunker the following morning in an overcast dawn that was barely distinguishable from night. Cole found himself settled in the backseat with Castiel, grateful for the full breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast that Dean had made, and the thermos of coffee that Sam had prepared for each of them.

The drive was long, monotonous, and dreary. The sky remained a heavy, dulled grey, somehow oppressive even when Dean turned on the radio and slipped in a tape of classic rock songs. They stopped for breaks every three to four hours, and at lunchtime Dean pulled into a town with a burger joint and a tattoo parlor, and sent Cole with Sam to get his protection symbol done while Dean and Cas ordered food. He came back with an aching shoulder, and Dean promptly handed him a beer and a bacon cheeseburger to take his mind off of it.

Most of the drive was quiet, music aside. Cole tried to rest, but his mind stayed busy, going over possible scenarios, contingency plans and emergency plans. From the tense atmosphere, everyone else was the same, and he didn't have the energy or the inclination to break that silence.

Finally, an hour after nightfall, they pulled into Muncie. Dean brought them to another small diner where they got food, then checked into a small, rundown motel. He came out with two room keys. "Okay. One room for me and Sammy and..." He tossed Cole a key. "One room for you and Cas."

Castiel frowned. "Dean...I don't need to sleep. I can..."

"Stay with Cole."

Cole frowned. "I don't need a babysitter, Deano."

"I know." Dean stared back at him, steady and implacable. "But we don't know whether you'll pick up any mojo here or not. And we sure as hell don't know how you'll react if you do. What we do know is that if you do pick something up and it goes nuclear, Cas is the only one who knows how to handle that crap. Hell, Cas is the only one even equipped for it."

Cole paused. "Put it like that...room arrangement sounds great."

Castiel nodded. "I agree. However...I assume we are close enough to assist each other, should it be required?"

"Got adjoining rooms. So don't do anything you wouldn't want me hearing." Dean smirked.

Sam punched him in the shoulder. "Dean."

Cole snorted. "No worries, Deano." He hefted his bag onto his shoulder. "So...what's the game plan?"

"We get settled in, then Dean and I will come over to your room." Sam leaned down and pulled the other two duffels out of the trunk.

"Sounds perfect." Cole stepped back as Sam shut the trunk, then followed the two hunters down a dimly lit hallway.

The room proved to be just big enough for two beds and a bathroom, a small dresser/TV stand, and a night table. Cole threw his duffel on the bed farthest from the door, then looked at his room-mate. "You said angels don't sleep. What are you gonna do while the rest of us are all sacked out?"

Castiel shrugged. "I frequently read, or patrol. Or meditate. I find silence to be soothing at times. And there are forms of entertainment on my phone." He held it up. "Sam and Dean taught me how to play the games."

"Okay. Whatever works." A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He opened it and let Sam and Dean in.

"First things first." Sam handed him a small flip wallet. Dean handed another one to Cas. Cole flipped it open to find a very authentic looking photo ID.

"Contract surveyors and building inspectors?"

"Yeah. Here's a business card if you need it. Number's ours from three cell phones ago, so totally bogus, but hey." Dean handed him a card.

"Right." Cole studied them. "Wanna tell me why I'm named after a member of Aerosmith, Deano?"

Sam laughed. "Dean likes using band names for aliases. Most people don't question. If they do, just roll your eyes and act like you've heard it a thousand times before."

"If it works." Cole tucked the cards into a pocket. "So...I guess the plan is to just walk in tomorrow, scout around, see what we see?"

"Pretty much. I was all for a night run, but Sam says it's less believable with our cover. Plus..."

"If there is a Grace reaction, it will be less visible in daylight." Cas cut in.

"Got it." He frowned at the card. "I didn't bring a suit."

"Won't need one. We're supposedly inspecting a condemned building. Suits would look pretty ridiculous." Dean smirked.

"Fine. If that's all settled..." Cole flopped back on his bed, flipping his feet up into a comfortable position. "I'm all for some shut-eye."

"We'll leave you to it then." Sam turned and ducked out his door, Dean right behind him. Cole settled a little more comfortably into his mattress.

The last thing he saw as he dozed off was Cas, seated with his back against the headboard, the light from his phone illuminating his face while he played a game.

***MAG***

They left the hotel around mid-morning, stopping to grab a quick breakfast before driving to the outskirts of town. Cole frowned at the dilapidated building they drove up to. "This is where they held a god party?" he frowned at the peeling paint, the broken down signs and busted windows. "Doesn't look like much."

Dean shrugged. "It's been a few years. Besides...when we stopped here the first time, it was a pretty classy establishment. When we came back to check on Gabe...it was a wreck."

Cas made a soft noise. "No god would actually build a hotel just for trapping someone. Most likely, it's appearance when you arrived was a matter of a great deal of artifice on their part. When Lucifer slaughtered them, much of the power put into maintaining the building's appearance would have been lost." He shrugged. "Even if it wasn't...Lucifer was an archangel. His wrath would not be an easy thing for any structure to bear."

Cole swallowed. "That's just great." He stared at the building a few more minutes, then squared his shoulders and shrugged his way out of the car. "Well, let's get on with it."

Five minutes later, they managed to shoulder the door open. Then Sam took the lead, threading his way carefully through broken rooms and hallways full of debris until he came to a medium sized dining hall. He put his hand on the door, then paused. "Cas...Dean and I, we gave Gabriel a hunter's burial. I..."

"It's all right, Sam." Cas slipped under the taller hunter's arm and pushed the door open. Cole followed the angel and the Winchesters inside, feeling like the odd man out.

He hadn't known this angel. Hell, until a few months ago, he hadn't known any angels, hadn't even known they were real. And now here he was, standing on the place where an angel had died, standing next to the angel's brother.

Cas stopped, his expression still and solemn and sad as he stared at the floor. Cole's eyes followed his line of sight.

On the ground were the burned out imprints of two wings, each longer than Cole was tall. They burned a pattern over the floor, the chair, the nearby table, stark and awful. It reminded him of the shadows he'd found near bomb sights, negative images burned into stone, a silent and horrible testament to destruction.

Everyone was still for a moment. Then Cas knelt, slowly, reverently, beside the ashes of his brother's wings. "Gabriel. I am...sorry. I am sorry it came to this. I wish we could have parted on better terms. I...forgive me brother, that I must disturb you. What remains of you in this world. I wish I could leave you in peace. I know that was all you ever wanted. Peace. An end to the fighting." He sighed, head bowing a little. "Forgive me brother, if I pray, for your sake, that reuniting your grace in a vessel does not revive you." He paused. "Forgive me, if I pray, for all our sakes that it does."

Cole felt a low stab in his gut. In some ways, Castiel's prayer was confusing. In some ways, it was the most heart-wrenching, honest thing he'd ever heard anyone say at a memorial, much less what this was.

Another moment passed in silence, then Cas leaned forward and laid his hand gently on a feather of the ashy wing-shadow. His fingers stroked the burned silhouette with careful gentleness, and when he lifted them away, there was ash and sparkles, like glitter, on his hands.

Cole watched as Cas pulled a small glass vial on a silver chain from an inside pocket of his jacket and carefully touched his fingers to it. The glittering substance on his fingers seemed to slide into the container and fall to the bottom. Cas repeated the procedure with another feather, then another, and the glitter accumulated in the bottom of the vial, until Cole could see it glowing, less a glitter and more a luminescent blue-white mist, trapped in the glass.

He backed up a few steps. "Hey, Sammy...what's that? That Grace?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. That's what it looks like when it's separated from an angel."

"Huh." He watched Castiel swipe up another few sparkles. "And I'm supposed to...do what with that exactly?"

Sam shrugged. "Not sure. I've never seen anyone intake Grace before." A small line settled between his brows. "As far as I know, Cas is the only one who ever has."

Cas finished with the last two feathers, then stood up, cradling the glowing glass loosely in his hand. He stood, head bowed over his brother's wings, then turned to Cole. "Here."

Cole took the bottle. It felt warm in his hands. "You want me to do this now?"

Castiel nodded. "It would be best. Grace reactions are rather noticeable. At least, it was for me, though maybe that's only if you take a whole Grace, rather than a fragment."

Cole nodded. "This gonna hurt?"

Castiel's brow furrowed. "It may feel uncomfortable for a few moments, but it should not cause you physical pain. If it does, tell me. It could mean the Grace is refusing you as a host, and I'll need to extract it."

"Okay." Cole frowned at the bottle. "So...how do I do this?"

"Hold it close to your face, as if you were breathing it in through your mouth, or drinking. The Grace should simply flow into you."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Time for my shot of white lighting, I guess." He flipped the loose cap off the bottle and brought it to his mouth, throwing his head back as if he were taking shots of whiskey at a bar.

The blue-white light flowed out of the bottle and down his throat, warm and tingling and strange. He felt it settle, like the burn from a potent liquor, yet different. Then the heat seemed to expand. He looked down to find his abdomen glowing through his t-shirt, light expanding through him like a wave, flashing over him like a fever or a fire.

He didn't have time to exclaim before it washed over his face, before there was light inside his head, brilliant but not burning. For a moment he felt larger than life, infinite, huge, as if the whole universe were at his fingertips, to be burned to ash or transformed to glory at a touch.

And then pain hit. Not physical but emotional, like watching his dad die all over again. Like every battlefield death and soldier's funeral he'd ever attended all rolled into one. Grief and anger, too great to bear, like an ocean of anguish.

Then physical pain hit, and with it a gut wrenching feeling of shock and betrayal, of hurt and agony. He crashed to his knees, drowning in it, and then he was burning, burning...

Someone was shouting his name. Hands were on his shoulders, then another, cooler hand on his forehead. Gentle, soothing light seemed to wrap around him, pushing back the tide of conflicting, painful emotions. He took a deep, gasping breath, and started to be able to feel his body again.

The sharp pain was suddenly muffled, as though someone had taken burning shards of glass inside his head and wrapped them in frozen wool. His breathing steadied, and he was able to open his eyes.

He was kneeling on the floor, not a foot from Gabriel's wing marks. Castiel was crouched in front of him, hand on his forehead. A quick check showed Sam and Dean on either side of him, the source of the hands on his shoulders. He swallowed twice, then coughed. "What happened?"

Dean snorted. "Was hoping you could tell us. You lit up like a firecracker, then you went down like someone decked you and acted like you'd just been murdered or watched the world die."

He swiped at the dampness he could feel on his cheeks. "Yeah, well, that's what it felt like." He breathed in. "At first it felt kinda warm, like being the best kind of drunk there is while sitting next to a nice fire. Then it felt like I was back from my first failed mission, with the 95% casualty rate and a dead hostage and I thought I was gonna break in half. Then it felt like I'd been shot and set on fire."

"I'm sorry." Castiel looked abashed. "I...this never happened with me." His gaze flicked to the wing marks.

"Right. So what happened?"

Castiel frowned. "The Grace, it's imbued with Gabriel's essence. In this case, it's most likely filled with the feelings Gabriel himself would have felt as he died. Grief, at having to confront his brother, even one as twisted as Lucifer. Anger, that Michael and Lucifer wouldn't stop, that they kept fighting. Whatever he felt when Lucifer turned on him and killed him. I assume it wasn't pleasant."

"You're not wrong about that. Felt worse than anything I've felt. Hell, I think it hurt less when my daddy died." Cole grimaced, then levered himself to his feet. Oddly enough, now that it was past, he didn't hurt at all. Actually he felt slightly energized, if anything.

The others stood as well. Cas looked him in the eyes for a long moment. Then he looked away and down, expression twisting. "I'm sorry."

Cole shrugged. "It's okay. You didn't know."

Cas shook his head. "It's not..." His eyes came up, locked with Cole's for a split second, then away again. "I...the sensation you described...I don't remember it from my own Grace absorption. But I do recognize it." Cole suddenly recognized regret in the angel's face. "What you're feeling, from the Grace you've absorbed...it's similar to the sensations I experienced when I was resurrected."

For a minute, he didn't understand what Cas was saying. Then he did. "Son of a bitch. So that's it then? We're bringin' back your brother in my body?" He was surprised he wasn't shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline and conflicting emotions.

Castiel's shoulders hunched. "I...it's possible it's simply a death echo of some kind. But your reactions suggest that...yes, it's far more likely that Gabriel will be resurrected." He shifted, then met Cole's eyes. "You can still refuse. We can still return to the Bunker, extract the Grace from you..."

"No." Cole shook his head. "I knew what I was signing up for." He took a deep breath and forced the anger away. "You warned me it might happen, and I said okay. So...okay. At least now I know." He rolled his shoulders. "Hope to hell it isn't gonna feel like that all the time."

"It shouldn't. Other fragments...the memory of death shouldn't be as strong. They may not even carry that memory at all. It's possible they will encompass entirely different elements of Gabriel's essence, that all of his death memories were contained here." Castiel paused. "Also I...I put up a barrier, in your mind, to separate your psyche from Gabriel's energy. It won't hold forever, nor will it hold back Gabriel's power completely, but it should shield you from some of the impact." He flushed, looking contrite. "I apologize for doing it without your permission, but..."

"No, I owe you one for that." He'd felt like he was going to drown and be incinerated at the same time. "Normally, I'd be a bit irritated, fellow messing around with my head, but that was some intense stuff, and I'm just as glad to have it blocked off. Just maybe do me a favor and ask next time. If you get a chance."

"Of course." Castiel nodded. The angel turned from him to survey the room, giving one last look to the ashes of his brother. "We should leave. There is nothing more we can do here."

Cole turned to find the younger Winchester eying him warily. "Problem, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head. "Just wondering how you're feeling. That was a pretty spectacular burst."

Cole considered. "Well, now that I don't feel like I'm dyin'...kinda like adrenaline and my fourth cup of coffee." He rolled his shoulders again. "Either of you boys do any sparring? I could surely use the exercise."

"Maybe later. Right now, we need to get back to the hotel, get some food, and figure out what our next move is gonna be." Dean grimaced, then ducked out. "No visitors, guess the light show went unnoticed."

"Then let's get out of here." Sam followed his brother out the door, Cole and Castiel close behind.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _First fragment back. More to come._


	8. Chapter 8: Mission Plans

**Chapter Eight: Mission Plans**

By the time they'd gotten lunch and back to the hotel, Cole was feeling a bit more settled. The Grace left him with a feeling similar to the stimulants he'd taken on some of his harder missions, but it was manageable. He still felt edgy and inclined to do some sparring, but set the feelings aside.

They had plans to make.

Dean picked up beer, then the four of them met in Sam and Dean's hotel room. Sam already had the computer up and running, searching for information. The rest of the table was occupied with a large map of the country.

Cole took a seat at the table and studied the map with interest. There were three locations marked on it. "What's there?"

Sam glanced at the map. "Those are locations where Dean and I encountered Gabriel. I thought they'd be worth checking out."

"Sure." He studied the map. "Look like ordinary places to me."

"They are. Gabriel liked to fly under the radar most of the time."

"Okay. So, what's with the computer?" Cole cocked his head at the machine.

"I'm looking up information on any relevant incidents. Gabriel posed as a god, Loki. He also disguised himself as a Trickster spirit. His favorite mode of operation, besides irritating Dean and I, was to insert himself into a community, then punish people who had committed wrongs. Usually his punishments would mirror the sins he believed they had committed, and most of them were attributed to urban legends. Alligators in the sewer, alien abductions, stuff like that." Sam tapped a few keys. "The problem is, there's so much information that it's hard to tell what's him, what's another entity, and what's just plain BS."

"Any way to narrow it down?"

"Maybe. But it's pretty time consuming. This is the type of stuff Bobby used to do for us. Without his help, it's really difficult." Sam frowned.

"Bobby?"

"Robert Singer." Cas spoke up. "He was a friend. He organized hunters all across the country, and he was something of an expert on supernatural entities."

"Yeah. And I guess past tense means he's not doin' that any more." Cole snagged a beer and drank it down.

"Bobby was killed on a job a few years ago. Got shot in the head." Dean's voice was brusque.

"Damn. Sorry to hear that." Cole took another sip of his beer, studying Dean's face. "He wasn't just a friend to you, was he?" The tone of Dean's voice told him that much.

"No. He wasn't. Bobby was…he was like a father. He helped raise us, teach us. Our dad made us hunters, warriors, but Bobby...Bobby taught us what it meant to be family." Sam's voice was quiet.

"He taught me what it meant to be human. To care for others." Cas picked up a beer and sipped it in thoughtful silence. The lines in his face were sorrowful when he spoke again. "He had no reason to trust angels, to trust me, but...he was kind. He gave me sanctuary more than once when I needed it, when my own brothers hunted me, and he forgave me my mistakes, my weakness, even when I did not deserve it." He dipped his head.

"Yeah, well, he's been gone a while, so we'll just have to get on without him." Dean gulped back a draft of beer, then set his bottle down. "So, where to next?"

Sam studied the map. "Wellington Ohio's closest. Then Crawford Hall, then Broward County, I guess. If we just want to follow the path of easiest to reach."

"Sounds good. Then I say we head back to the Bunker." Dean finished his bottle. "I've got an idea who we can ask for more info."

Castiel shifted. "Dean, if you're referring to my siblings, or Metatron..."

"Nah." Dean snagged Sam's computer and typed something in. "I was thinkin'...we contact her."

The rest of them craned their necks around to look. Castiel frowned. "Why would you contact a Hindu goddess?"

"Cause Gabriel was tight with her for a while. As in...really close in every sense."

"Huh." Cole studied the picture. It was an artist's rendering of a beautiful Middle Eastern woman wreathed in fire and holding a sword. "Seems kinda temperamental."

"She is. But apparently they had a history, and whatever it was, Gabe made sure she escaped with us when the stuff here went down. So I figure..."

"That if anyone knows where Gabriel's Grace might have gone, Kali would." Sam finished. "Makes sense. She might even have some of it with her."

"I find that hard to believe. Though I suppose it is possible. But would she give it to us?" Castiel looked concerned.

"Hard to say. I guess it depends on what kind of mood we catch her in, and if we can call in a favor. I mean, we did help save her from Lucifer, and we did stop the Apocalypse, so..." Sam shrugged. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He looked at his brother. "I'm guessing you want to go back to the Bunker and look for a summoning ritual."

"Proper ritual usually helps." Dean shrugged.

"That is true. Even minor gods and demigods react better when given their proper due." Castiel nodded.

"Yeah. Speaking of which...um, don't call her a minor god, or a demigod. She didn't take it well when Gabriel called her that." Sam coughed. "I know, you being an angel...actually, she doesn't really like angels, so maybe you should let Dean and I do the talking."

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

Castiel scowled but agreed. "Very well." He glanced at the map again. "I suppose our first goal would be to gather the grace from these other locations."

"That's the idea." Dean rolled his shoulders. "But I vote we start tomorrow. Tonight, I say we take a breather, get some more cash and a decent night's sleep."

"Yeah. I could stand to do some more research." Sam stretched and eyed his computer. "I could compile a list of possible locations to ask Kali about."

"Great. So...you geek out. Me and Cole will do some sparring, then hit up a bar or something."

"And what should I do?" Castiel shifted in place.

"Well, you can come with us. Or you could help Sam."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Will you be involved with either alcohol or a den of iniquity?"

Dean shrugged. "Alcohol, yes. Den of iniquity…maybe not."

"You want a girl, get your own. I'm a married man, Deano." Cole shook his head. "I don't mind playin cards or hustlin a little pool, but I'm not helping you pick up a hooker."

"Fine. Just beer and pool."

Castiel looked back and forth between them. "I think I'll stay and help Sam."

Dean shrugged again. "Your loss."

"Whatever. We'll probably join you for dinner later." Sam was already back at his computer.

"Sure." Dean was already halfway to the door. Cole rose and followed the hunter.

 *****MAG*****

Sparring was an interesting experience. A mostly empty parking lot out back served as a ring, and he and Dean spent a good hour blowing off steam and trading punches and techniques. Cole soon discovered that the additional Grace had given him an edge in strength, where Dean had lost his demon-mark enhancement. The result was a much closer fight. Cole's training stood him in good stead, especially his extra combat training, but Dean had learned in the school of hard knocks, and he knew dirty tricks that even the Army didn't teach. He also didn't hold back, not even in a spar.

After they'd burned some energy in hand-to-hand they moved on to weapons. They couldn't use their guns, being inside the city limits, but they did practice some knife fighting. Dean also introduced him to the uses of the angel blade.

As he'd thought, it was well balanced for throwing. The triple edge made it a fairly effective slashing weapon, and the needle-sharp point made it an efficient stabbing tool. The lack of a guard was a little disconcerting, but Cole found himself adapting more easily than he'd expected. Something about the heft of the weapon and the fit in his hand felt right, though he'd never used a blade like it before in his life.

Dean showed him a few fencing techniques he'd picked up, then called a halt. The hunter was panting a little, and perspiring freely. "Looks like you got the basics."

"Yeah. When do I learn the advanced stuff?" Cole studied the blade. It was actually more of a sword than a knife, and he'd never studied fencing. Most soldiers didn't. A Kaibar was easier to hide and more efficient to use. Still, if it was what worked…

"When you get Cas to teach you." Dean huffed and tucked is own blade into the back of his jacket. "Me and Sam can hunt and shoot and knife-fight, but Cas is the expert with an angel blade."

"Makes sense." Cole tilted his head. "Level with me Deano. How's Cas measure up to other supernatural...well, whatever we'll be facing?"

"In terms of power? Hard to say, the hits his mojo's taken." Dean shrugged. "In terms of skill with a weapon? He can't shoot, but if it's a blade fight, he's pretty bad ass. I've seen him take on a lot of pretty tough stuff. He'll be a good teacher for you."

"How's he stack up against this…Gabriel fella?"

"Gabriel's got more power. Hands down, no contest there. I mean, he's a freakin archangel. He was out of Cas's league even before Cas took a pounding. But Cas...Cas has more heart. And in a blade to blade fight, I honestly can not tell you which of them would walk away." Dean shook his head. "Honestly, power aside, I'd bet Cas against anything."

"Good to know." It did make him feel better. Although, it also made him feel a little strange, to know that the being inside him was so powerful he could make an angel, especially one Dean thought so highly of, look minor by comparison.

"Yeah well, right now I'd rather know how good the local beer is." Dean tilted his head toward the town. "Come on, looks like a short walk."

"Sure." Cole followed the hunter without comment. Given the sweat he'd worked up, a nice cool-down walk sounded good. So did a beer, though he had an odd craving for a Coke. And a bowl of ice cream.

The bar they found was clean, if a little rough, with a pool table and a card table both. Dean ordered them both cold ones, which they gulped down, then two more bottles with dinner. Dinner was steak and potatoes, and it was delicious. Afterward, they split their cash, with Dean making his way towards the pool table while Cole ambled over to the card game.

Half an hour later, Cole was on his third post-sparring beer and feeling a little relaxed. Sam and Cas had arrived ten minutes prior, ordered their own beers and food (food for Sam, at least) And settled in. Cole had seen Sam size up the situation, but other than that, the hunter gave no sign that he'd seen them, or recognized them. Cole was willing to play along.

Twenty minutes after that, Sam joined Cole at the card table, and Castiel drifted over to apparently watch Dean at the pool table.

Cole had never played with a partner before, but falling into rhythm with Sam was surprisingly easy. The young hunter amassed well over a hundred dollars before he called it a night, seemingly drunk. Cole managed to win almost another hundred before he tapped out, to the good-natured grumbling of the players that were left.

At the pool table, Dean had done his own collecting. Castiel seemed to be acting as his foil, the clueless accountant trying to bet. By the time Dean called it quits, he'd doubled their take for the night, and Sam and Cas had disappeared back to the hotel.

The walk back was refreshing, and invigorating, though Dean was a little more relaxed than Cole would have expected. Still, Dean wasn't a rough drunk, and he was good company. Cole saw him to his door, then went to his own and crashed into the bed. He felt loose and relaxed, and rather pleased with how the day had gone.

Sleep was a long time coming, but Cole finally drifted off, to dream of wings and a glowing light that surrounded him, and filled him with joy.

 _ **Author's Note:** Just wanted to give Cole some down time, cause next chapter they are picking up the pace..._


End file.
